You Belong to Me
by Natalia173
Summary: Marshall is dating a girl and Mary finds out... just not from Marshall. How will Mary handle this new addition to his life? ETA: I fixed all the formatting issues I hope so there should be scene breaks now.
1. Chapter 1

Sooo... 14 chapters and no one told me my scene breaks were broken. I'm going to try to fix it but, if I don't, you can read the whole thing on my Live Journal, under the name im_writing.

Hey! A new IPS story! You should be forewarned that it's a work in progress and it's going to be long. I have about 60 pages written and I'm not finished yet. The first 25 or so have gone to my beta (and returned to me) but she gets about ten pages at a time. That should give you some sort of reference for how long this will take in terms of updating. I hope that you enjoy the story and, of course, reviews are always welcome.

* * *

"What's her name?"

Marshall ignored his partner. She had been trying to pull the same information from him all week. Surprisingly, he had managed to keep it a secret. Usually when Mary wanted to know something, she found out; there was little that Mary Shannon didn't find out.

"Just the first letter."

"I'm not telling you." It was about the third time in the past hour he had said those words or some variation thereof. Mary persisted, determined to pull it out of him.

"Marshall, you can't have a girlfriend and not even tell me what her name is."

Marshall put down his pen and looked at his partner. Mary wasn't exactly the person that he wanted knowing the name of his girlfriend. In fact, he had kept her existence from Mary for over six months, but she had called while he was in the office the other day. It wouldn't have been a big deal, but Mary had picked up his phone.

"Will you at least tell me what she looks like?" Mary asked. She picked up her paper clips and began chucking them at Marshall. "Just tell me!"

"I am not giving you the name of my girlfriend. I'm not telling you what she looks like and I'm certainly not going to tell you where she lives." If Marshall even told Mary her first name, Mary would find her and harass her. If he could manage it, the two would never meet.

There was also the part that he knew it frustrated Mary. He kind of liked watching her squirm.

Mary was frustrated. Usually she could discover anything that she wanted when it came to Marshall and, more often than not, she just had to annoy it out of him. The fact that he seemed determined to keep information from her was rare.

"It's not like I'm going to do anything," she promised. Marshall saw through the lie. "Since when did you become so tight lipped about things?"

"I'm just not the kind of person to kiss and tell."

"So you have kissed her then."

Marshall rubbed his eyes with his hand; the conversation was so frustrating. After a week of the same argument, he was having a tough time not giving in just to make her shut up. He had forgotten how persistent Mary was when she didn't get her way. He usually gave in before this and he wasn't sure he'd have the energy to do it much longer. But if he told Mary, then she'd be sure to hunt down his significant other.

Marshall actually liked this girl. He wanted things to work out and he was fairly certain that if the girl met Mary, that wasn't going to happen. So Marshall kept his mouth shut.

Mary got creative: she rigged his computer. Every time he would attempt to look up his witnesses, the browser popped up to a random porn sight. Marshall had to call IT to get it to stop. They even refused to fix it for awhile, being in cahoots with her, but Stan stepped in and they reversed whatever Mary had asked them to do.

When that didn't work, she tried tapping his phone. After last week, however, Marshall seemed to take all his calls from the mysterious girlfriend on his cell, something much harder to tap.

Mary was going to have to get creative. She thought about hacking into Marshall's computer, after all there had to be something useful on there. Marshall was good with passwords, though. He was a lot more creative than her own "doofus." She had cracked it once and had never been able to since. He had made sure to lock it ever since his new beau had called.

"Blond or brunette?" she asked him. She rested her elbow on her desk and leaned her head into her hand. Marshall stopped his typing to glare at her.

"If I give you a brief, vague, physical description, will you please stop harassing me so I can get some work done?"

"For a little while, at least."

Marshall figured it was the best he was going to get. Besides, of all the things he could tell Mary about his new girl, her physical description was going to be the least informative.

"She a brunette with green eyes. She's about your height, slim and Italian."

Mary turned towards her computer, evil look in her eye. Marshall sighed but at least she had shut up for awhile. She would try hard as she could to find the girl and then, when she had exhausted all of her resources, would be back to harassing him for more information. Until then, he would have to work fast to try and get something done before she regained interest in his love interest.

* * *

Marshall hadn't come in yet, leaving Mary uncharacteristically alone. She figured he was stuck in traffic or something of that nature. He didn't have the same finesse that she did when driving. Of course, she knew Marshall would never refer to it as that but at the end of the day, she always got places faster and didn't hit anything.

She was contemplating whether she could snoop through his desk before he got in when something even better walked through the door.

Mary could see a girl with dark hair and green eyes, trying to get in the door. She looked about Mary's height and had dark olive skin. She kept trying to figure out how to open the door, not realizing you needed a key to get into this office. Mary smiled, knowing exactly who this girl had to be. She walked over to the door, glad that Marshall had been late.

"Can I help you?" Mary asked her.

"I'm looking for Marshal Mann," she said. She adjusted the designer purse that hung from her shoulder. Mary already didn't like her.

"He's not here. Got stuck in traffic, I think. Who are you?"

"I'm Sarah."

Mary just stared at her blankly, making it obvious that the name meant nothing to her. The woman sighed. "Sarah Malacarne. I'm Marshall's girlfriend."

Mary smiled, happy that she had been right and now had a first and last name of this mysterious girl that Marshall had refused to tell her about. "Come on in," Mary said, opening the door for her. "Marshall sits there. You can wait for him."

"Thank you." She sat down on the edge of the chair, sitting up straight and crossing her legs. She was so proper that Mary almost couldn't stand it. She wondered where Marshall had picked her up and when he intended to dump her. Mary sat on the edge of her desk, facing Sarah. She figured she had about ten minutes to interrogate the woman and find out everything she could about Sarah and Marshall's relationship.

"So you're dating Marshall?"

"Yes, he hasn't mentioned it?" Sarah said it like a question but Mary got the feeling she knew that Marshall didn't talk about her much.

"He mentioned in passing a few weeks ago that he was seeing someone." There was an awkward silence between the two before Mary started in again. "How long have you two been dating?"

"About six months," Sarah answered with a wave of her hand like it was nothing. Mary was stunned to realize that they had been together so long. The woman didn't seem like someone Marshall would be interested in, let alone date for so long. She could see Marshall sleeping with her, were he prone to one night stands, but not actually dating someone like Sarah. There had to be more to her if Marshall had put up with her this long.

"So, what do you do?"

"I run a day care," Sarah said. She looked desperate to get away from Mary and all her incessant questions. But Mary, being Mary, didn't stop. She figured she only had about five more minutes with this girl and didn't have nearly enough information.

"With little kids?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow, looking at Mary like she was an idiot. "Yes, with children."

Mary couldn't see it, personally. The woman seemed too put together to deal with kids. "You just don't seem like the child caring type," Mary told her.

"Oh, I don't interact with the children. I run the business end of it all. My partner deals with the children. I only occasionally deal with parents," she practically spit the word out, "when there are financial difficulties." It was obvious that parents were Sarah's least favorite part of her job, but a necessary evil if money was going to be schmoozed out of them. Mary didn't want to know how much Sarah charged per kid but if her designer shoes, dress, and bag were any indication, Mary could guess it was a fairly large number.

"How did you and Marshall meet?"

Sarah sighed, tapping her fingers on her bag in impatience. "If Marshall hasn't told you, I'm not sure he wanted you to know."

"There's a lot Marshall doesn't want me to know. At the end of the day, it's just better for everyone if I'm told instead of having to find it out myself."

"We met at a bar. We started talking and at the end of the night I handed him my number, he called, and we started dating." Her eyes flitted to the door again, hoping for respite from the crazy blond sitting in front of her.

"Marshall doesn't go to bars."

"He went to this bar."

"You sure it was a bar that you met Marshall?"

"I think I'd remember where I met the guy I'm seeing."

"Sarah, what are you doing here?" The two women looked to see Marshall standing in the doorway. Relief spread over Sarah's face and annoyance spread over Mary's. She still had a lot she wanted to ask, but she knew Marshall was going to whisk Sarah away as soon as possible. Sarah stood, hugging Marshall and kissing him briefly.

"I came to surprise you! It turns out I had the day off and wanted to see if you'd be able to escape for a few hours."

Mary looked at Marshall and the look on his face was begging her to be nice. He knew that she was about to burst out laughing at the public display of affection. He had never wanted Sarah to meet Mary, let alone have a conversation with her without him there to mediate.

"I might be able to swing the afternoon," he said cautiously. Mary just raised an eyebrow and again his eyes begged her not to say anything. They both knew that Marshall had weeks and weeks of vacation built up. Being a Marshal didn't exactly lend itself to time off. Mary simply shrugged at him, pushed away from the edge of her desk and sat down in her seat. If Marshall wanted to avoid Sarah, Mary certainly wasn't going to hinder him.

"I have a lot of work to get done this morning, but stop by around one," Marshall told her. "We'll start our weekend early."

"Great!" She leaned down and kissed him, longer than Mary thought was strictly necessary.

When she left, Marshall just sighed and turned towards his partner. "Go ahead, I know I can't avoid it now," he said when Sarah had left.

"Are you kidding me? Did you actually meet her in a bar?"

"I do go out, Mary, despite what you think."

"She runs a day care," Mary pointed out.

"I like kids."

"But she doesn't deal with kids. She deals with the parents which, I'm pretty sure you don't like. And she dresses like a… a…"

"Girl?" Marshall supplied.

"Yeah."

"Most women take pride in their appearance. Not all of them dress like they're ready for a bar fight at a moment's notice."

"Hey, it was a good thing that I do! Otherwise you would have been flying solo in the one we got into. You're good, Marshall, but even I don't think you could have taken on five guys."

Marshall couldn't help but smile at the reference. Mary had been her usual socially compliant self and had insulted some guy. Unfortunately the guy had four friends and had decided that they weren't going to move on. The fact that Mary and Marshall were US Marshals didn't seem to faze him. Maybe they had thought that Mary couldn't fight and was a dainty girl. All the men had dropped that notion the second that she had flipped the heaviest of them over the bar.

"Yeah, if you had actually pretended to be a woman, then we wouldn't have gotten into the fight in the first place."

"You liked it," she told him. "I keep your life exciting."

"That's one word for it."

Mary leaned back in her seat, turned toward Marshall. Her face had lost its humor and Marshall saw it take on a serious demeanor. "How come you kept Sarah a secret for so long?"

She looked almost hurt but Marshall pushed the thought aside. Mary didn't get hurt, not like that anyways, not usually. She certainly wasn't going to get upset by something like Marshall dating someone and not telling her.

"We started dating just after you and Raph, well, you know."

She did know and tried really hard not to think about it. Raph and she had ended it just over six months ago. It had been rough, worse than Mary had expected. When Raph finally moved out the last of his things, Mary had gone over to Marshall's. She didn't even say anything to him when she came over; Marshall didn't ask any questions. He simply let her in the door and they sat on his couch watching TV. She had finally fallen asleep and they went to work the next day like it was any other day. Mary had never talked about her experience and Marshall had never pushed her to talk about it. There were some things that you could coax Mary into telling you. Then there were some things that if she wanted to tell you, you would only find out by her saying something to you.

"Just because my relationship ended didn't mean that you had to hide yours from me."

"I know, I just thought it would be better for you if you didn't have to hear about it."

It wasn't that she cared that Marshall was seeing someone. It bothered her that Marshall had kept it from her. He was supposed to be her best friend and he couldn't even tell her when he was in a relationship. Of course, she didn't have the best track record when it came to Marshall's girlfriends. Usually, she would find some way to embarrass him. Or her. Or both, if it was a good day. Most of the girls he had picked out for himself weren't good enough for him anyway. She wondered why he bothered with all of these women. The least he could have done was pick someone a little more intelligent out.

"I don't like her," Mary finally said.

"Of course you don't." He paused, looking at her with curiosity. "Why not?"

"She's an idiot."

Marshall rolled his eyes at her. "You think everyone is an idiot."

"That's because they usually are."

"Where are Stan and Eleanor?"

"Eleanor called in sick and Stan is dealing with the Feds. Said he'd be back around eleven."

Marshall glanced up at the clock, seeing the hands pointing at the ten and the seven.

"What caused you to actually call her back?"

Marshall refrained from banging his head against the desk. Only twenty more minutes until Stan was back and maybe Marshall could escape from the onslaught of questions.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is chapter two. I've read through it and it's been to my beta so hopefully, all mistakes have been ironed out. I hope you enjoy this next installment of Mary/Marshall fun. And reviews are always welcome.

* * *

"Why do you need _me_ to go see one of _your_ witnesses?" Marshall asked.

"Because you're my partner. And you're better with people. And because I said so." Nancy had been in the program for about a year now but Mary was notorious for staying close to her witnesses. Of course, there was an actual purpose for her visit today. Mary pulled into a parking garage across the way from Nancy's apartment building.

The pair looked at the tall building. They stood outside in the heat, just staring at it, hoping that the structure would get shorter or that the elevator would suddenly lose the "out of order" sign that was posted on it.

Mary leaned slightly towards Marshall, still looking at the building in front of her. "What floor is she on?"

"The eighth."

"Shit," she said, straightening. "Do you think they have another elevator?"

"Doubtful, but I guess we could ask the doorman."

"This neighborhood isn't nice enough to have a doorman."

"Then I guess we're hoofing it up eight flights of stairs."

Mary groaned but followed Marshall into the building. The stairs were to the right of the elevator, hidden so that it didn't upset the aesthetics of the lobby. It was probably the only nice looking part of the building. They hadn't even gone one flight before the questions started again.

"What do you and Sarah even have in common? Have you seen the house she lives in?"

There was a long pause before Marshall spoke. "Have you?"

"I might have Googled it."

"How did you even get her address?"

"She might have mentioned her first and last name in her little visit last week."

Marshall rolled his eyes; he should have known that Mary would figure it out. He didn't know why he thought he'd be able to hide it from her.

They were only on the second story and Marshall didn't know how he was going to field her questions for the next six. The past few weeks of answering them had already worn him down and he had been able to do other things to distract himself in the office. Now he was stuck in a stairwell with her and nothing to save him.

"I don't see why who I'm dating is any of your business."

"Because we're friends. If you were a girl and I were more girlie we'd be screeching about the new hot guy you're dating and I'd want to know every last detail."

"She's smart. I can have an actual conversation with her and not a single sarcastic comes out of her mouth," he finally relinquished.

"You get that with me." Marshall shot her a look. "Ok," she conceded, "maybe not the sarcastic commentary part."

"We have a lot of similar interests."

"Like ballroom dancing?" she laughed and then, when she got another look from him, "You like my sarcasm. Don't serve me this bullshit that it's been so terrible for you all this time and secretly my biting comments actually hurt you."

"What if they do?" He was annoyed at her. For once he wanted her to see that maybe her words actually had an effect on people. Just because he had learned not to respond to her didn't mean that he had learned to cut his emotions off. Mary was painfully oblivious to the havoc that she caused around her. She knew that she wasn't the easiest to get along with but she also didn't seem to see the effect her words had on people. Marshall was a perfect example of that. He had learned to deal with the things she said to him because he knew there were few other options. It was either ignore her or take them all personally. Somehow, he managed to do both.

"Don't be such a pansy." They were silent for another flight and at the fifth floor her questions started again. "Did you talk about me to her?"

"I might have mentioned you once or twice."

"That's it?"

"What do you want from me, Mary, a detailed report of everything that I've ever said to her? She asked about my job so I told her that I was in law enforcement and that I had a partner named Mary."

"You didn't tell her what you actually do, did you?" She turned around to look down at him, stopping just above him on the stairs.

"Of course not. I'm not stupid. Nor do I discuss my job with my significant other without first talking to my partner."

"Jesus, you tell your fiancé about your job one time and you can never live it down," Mary mumbled as she resumed walking up the stairs.

"I'm just more considerate than that."

She turned on him again. "Christ, Marshall, what crawled up your ass today?"

"I don't know. Maybe I just got tired of my partner giving me the third degree about my love life." He pushed past her, practically stomping up the last two flights of stairs. Mary didn't say anything, just followed him up to the eighth floor. "What room is she in?"

"She's apartment 823," Mary volunteered. Marshall knocked loudly on the door. A short blond answered, smile spreading across her face when she saw the two Marshals at her door.

"Hey, come on in." She stood aside to let the two people by. "Can I get you anything?" She gestured to the couch, inviting them to sit down.

"No, thanks, Nancy," Mary answered as she sat down next to Marshall. Nancy sat down in a nearby chair.

"What brings you here?"

"We found him, Nancy. He was in Jersey, hiding in suburban America," Mary told her softly.

Nancy's face dropped, her smile vanished at the news. Her hands shook and tears came to her eyes, not quite knowing whether to laugh or cry at the information that the Marshals had just given her. Mary leaned over, squeezing her hand lightly.

"What, uh, what am I, uh, going to need to do?" Nancy asked, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes.

"He's was moved down to DC, being held by the feds," Mary explained softly. "On the day that you need to testify, we'll fly you down there, you'll testify and then we'll fly you back to Albuquerque."

Nancy nodded, biting her lips. She kept looking at her hands. "What if… what if they find me? What if they follow me here?"

"Hey, hey," Mary consoled as she rose from her seat and squatted in front of the witness. "What did I tell you on the first day that you came into the program?"

"I believe your exact words were, 'Is she serious with that hair?'"

"Ok, well what was the second thing I said, when you were worried about being found?"

"That no one who followed the rules had ever been found."

Marshall came over and sat on the arm of the oversized chair. "And no one is going to find you now," he told her. "They'll never know how you got there, where you came from or where you're going. We are going to be with you every step of the way and we are not going to let anyone find you."

"When am I going to have to go there?"

"Probably in about a month," Mary told her. "But we're going to have to meet with the DA a few times first to make sure that you're trial ready."

"I'm going to have to go to DC before the trial? Where he is?" Nancy's voice was beginning to get frantic.

"No, not DC," Mary told her. "We'll meet him at a different location, a different city entirely. We don't want you in Washington unless you absolutely have to be there. We don't know what kind of people Jason has trolling around DC looking for you."

"We go to St. Louis a lot," Marshall told her. "It's kind of a melting pot. An easier place to lose a person than you would think. We can meet the DA there a few times just to make sure that everything goes smoothly at the trial. We'll also coordinate security with him so that we can get you in and out without issue. The only time that Jason is going to see you is when you testify against him."

They sat with her a little while longer, answering all the questions that she had, reassuring her about her safety. After about an hour, they left her, at least comfortable in the knowledge that it would soon all be over and she could go back to living, if not a normal life, at least an unexciting one.

They were both quiet as they started back down the stairs. This time it was Marshall's turn to break the silence. "Sometimes you baffle me."

"You can't seem to figure out how I so skillfully walk down the stairs without falling on my ass? It's not that hard. Just put one foot in front of the other."

"I don't understand how one second you're the biggest jerk in the world and the next you're the most compassionate person that I know."

"It's like I really have a heart."

The trip down the stairs was infinitely faster than the trip up and soon they were in the car. Marshall didn't start the car right away. "I just don't get why you're human with your witnesses and then not with everyone else you're supposed to care about."

"Maybe I just use it all up on them. Will you just drive so that we can actually get something done today?"

Marshall didn't answer her, just started the car and drove off. It was pointless to try and get information out of Mary, just like it was pointless to try and keep it from her. Mary had always been like this, though. Compassionate to every witness but cold and closed off to everyone she was supposed to love. Marshall never said anything, but it was what had ended her relationship with Raph, or so he assumed.

The thing was Marshall had never cared much before now. He had never really thought about the fact that Mary was so stand-offish to everyone she knew and just about everyone who wasn't a witness. He had dealt with her blunt personality, even come to embrace certain parts of it. At the end of the day they were friends and even if she acted like a jerk sometimes, she knew when to shut her mouth and be a friend.

There was something, lately, that had just irked him about it all. Ever since he had started dating Sarah, Mary's antics had gotten more and more annoying and, sometimes, hurtful. Sarah was the exact opposite of Marshall's partner. Sarah loved the people around her and it was obvious. She cared about her appearance, her attitude. She was serious when it was necessary and joked when it was appropriate. Spending so much time around the two women was causing him to notice Mary's flaws. He was starting to realize that maybe they weren't ok.

* * *

"So tell me more about your partner now that I've actually met her." Sarah looked at Marshall from across the table. Marshall had decided that he needed a night out so he had called Sarah and took her out to dinner, the pressure of the day starting to dissipate.

"What do you want to know about her?" He poured a second glass of wine. He didn't really want to have this conversation, but he felt it was as inevitable as Mary finding out that he had been dating Sarah. It was something that could only stay hidden for so long.

"Is so always so… brash?"

"Regularly."

"Really? How do you put up with that?"

Marshall shrugged. "That's just how she is. But she's a good Marshal. One of the best that I know."

"I thought you had to have people skills to be a Marshal."

"Mary has people skills. Just, not with people she likes."

"I just don't understand." Sarah took another bite of her food. "You two just seem completely different."

"We are but I think that's why we do our jobs so well."

"So," Sarah began slowly, "is she seeing anyone?"

"She had a fiancé until about six months ago. They broke up not long before I met you." He finally, really looked at Sarah, placing his fork on his plate. "Why does it matter?"

"I guess it doesn't," she said with a shrug. "It's just unusual to see partners of the opposite sex together." She looked down at her plate, moving her food around it but not really eating it.

"I know a few," Marshall told her. "It's not as unusual as you would think. A lot of times it's actually better for partners to be different genders." He smiled slightly, taking on a teasing tone. "You're not… jealous of Mary are you?"

"No, of course not!" Sarah straightened in her chair. "I'm just curious about her. That's all."

Marshall leaned across the table, taking her hands in his. He looked straight into her eyes, never letting his waver. "There is nothing going on between Mary and me. We're just good friends."

"Friends and partners who seem to spend an excessive amount of time together."

"I'm not going to deny that she's my best friend. We've been through too much together not to be. But she's just my friend. I mean, you've met her. She's not exactly someone you can be romantic with." He leaned closer to Sarah, lowering his voice. "And I like being romantic."

Sarah couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. She leaned across the table and kissed him. "How about we get out of here?"

"You're finished with your meal?"

"Yeah, I'm ready to let you be romantic."

* * *

"Why are you snooping in Marshall's desk, Mary?"

Mary cursed, wondering how Eleanor seemed to know what she was up to without even lifting her head. That didn't stop Mary from continuing to rifle through Marshall's desk. She pulled open his pencil drawer, sifting through the pens, erasers and thumb tacks that were kept there.

"Because. He's keeping something from me and I'm bound and determined to figure out what the hell it is."

"Heaven forbid anyone have any privacy from you," Eleanor mumbled. She had learned long ago to lock her drawers against Mary, not that it helped much. Mary had been known to pick locks. Eleanor just kept everything important out of her desk. She had encouraged Stan to do the same, but the man never listened. Subsequently, everyone's personal files had been viewed by Mary.

"If Marshall wanted privacy, he shouldn't be friends with me." She opened the drawers on the left side of his desk. There were files of all his witnesses, all in perfect order, alphabetical by last name. Mary flipped through them but saw nothing of interest. She pulled open the drawer above it but found only pads of paper, notes scrawled over the pages. She closed it and then closed the drawer with all the files in it. As she did, she heard something bang softly against the back of the drawer. She pulled it out again and pushed all of the files forwards, creating a space at the back. There, sitting at the bottom of the drawer was a little black box. Mary picked it up, praying that it wasn't what she thought it was.

When she opened it, there was a silver ring with a big diamond on top. She was so shocked by the discovery she didn't notice Marshall walk in the door.

"Mary, what are you doing?" Marshall sounded more exasperated than upset. Mary looked at him, standing up to face him.

"Marshall, what the hell is this?" She held out the ring. Marshall took it, closing it with a distinct snap.

"It's an engagement ring, Mary."

"Thank you for stating the obvious."

"You asked an obvious question. I gave you the obvious answer."

"What the hell is it doing in your desk?"

Marshall put it back in its hiding place and sat down at his desk. He didn't look at Mary, just turned on his computer like it was any other day. Like Mary hadn't just discovered a huge secret.

"You're going to ask her, aren't you?"

He turned on her, his eyes genuinely angry. Mary took an involuntary step back. She had never seen him angry like this. There was hurt underneath his fury and it confused her.

"What does it matter if I ask her? If I do, that's my business. I like her, Mare, love her even. She makes me happy. If I want to marry her, that's my decision."

"It's a bad one! You've only known her six months! How could you possibly know she's the one that you want to spend your life with?" She was yelling at him, getting in his face. Marshall stood up, bringing his face inches from hers.

"Because I'm not like you! I don't string people along for years and then, three weeks before the wedding decide that I don't want to marry them and ask them to move out of my house!"

They were both silent, horrified at what he had just said. Mary couldn't believe that he knew. Not only knew, but used it against her. Marshall couldn't believe that he had hurt her so much. It had been a stupid mistake that he wished, more than anything, he could take back.

"Mare-"

She didn't let him finish, just turned away and stalked out of the building. Marshall winced when the door slammed.

* * *

"That little piece of shit!" Mary slammed her front door and threw her coat on the couch. "How did he even know? And what the hell is he thinking?" Doors, glasses, cabinets, even the water pitcher was subject to Mary's wrath.

"What are you making so much noise for?"

Mary turned, seeing her sister walking into the kitchen. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"The professor is at a conference. No class today. Now what are you so angry about?" Brandi grabbed a glass, pouring herself some water, though infinitely calmer than Mary had. She put the pitcher back in the fridge and sat on one of the stools surrounding the island. Mary took a large gulp of water, somehow managing to do that in an angry fashion.

When she had finally calmed down enough to be semi-civil to her sister, she spoke. "Marshall is going to ask this twit that he's dating to marry him."

Brandi seemed unmoved by the revelation. "Does he like this girl?"

"He claims that he loves her."

"I'm failing to see the problem." Brandi took another sip of her water, giving her sister a puzzled and slightly bored expression. "I mean, if he's in love with her then he should totally marry her. God, I bet he's going to do something really romantic too." She leaned her chin in her hand, sighing, lost in romantic fantasies.

"Could you come back to reality for a second?"

Brandi stuck her tongue out at Mary, but reined in her day dreams. "So why is this a problem for you, Marshall getting married? Doesn't he deserve to be happy?"

"He barely knows the girl! They've only been dating about six months. How do you decide that you want to get married to someone after that short of a time?"

Brandi shrugged, but in that way that said she understood him. "I know that I want to spend my life with Peter. I knew it only a few months after I started dating him." About a month ago, Brandi had come home in excitement. After dating Peter for some time, he had finally popped the question. Mary couldn't be happier for her sister. Not only did she actually like Peter but it also meant that Brandi wasn't going to be living in her house anymore. Brandi had cleaned up her act in a way that Mary never thought she could and a lot of that had to do with Peter.

"Yeah, but he didn't actually ask you to marry him until you had been dating for over a year."

"So what? Do you know why he waited that long? Because he said he thought that if he asked me two months after we started dating I would have said no." Brandi finished off her water and stood up to put her glass in the sink. Mary was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, usual grouchy look on her face, but she wasn't speaking. Brandi took it as a sign that she was right, not that Mary would ever admit to it.

"I still think it's a stupid idea. I mean, the girl is an idiot. She runs a daycare but doesn't like kids! Why would Marshall even be interested in someone like that? Not to mention she is so girlie it sickens me. The woman manages to cram more designers on her body than you do."

"Jesus, Mary, are you listening to yourself? You're like the little boy on the playground who pulls the pigtails of the girl he likes. If I didn't know you, I'd think you were in love with Marshall."

"Shut up, Squish. I'm not in love with him." Mary shoved her sister but Brandi just laughed.

"Whatever. I have studying to do." She waited until she was safely down the hall before loudly singing, "Mary and Marshall, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G." She booked it down the hallway, hearing Mary's feet pounding after her. She slammed the door just as Mary reached it, laughing as her sister futilely pounded on the wood, threatening the little sister inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three! I know that it took a couple of days but I had to work all weekend. It didn't leave a lot of time for updating. I want to thank everyone for their reviews (and story alerts, author alerts, favoriting my story and favoriting me as an author.) This chapter actually has one of my favorite lines so far.

Also, I have about one chapter of beta'd material left (if that. I might not even have that much) so my updates are going to be a little less frequent because I have to wait for them to come back from my ever wonderful beta, Lady_mars.

Also, it occurred to me, I haven't placed a disclaimer on this story at any point. So, just in case you didn't already know, I don't own In Plain Sight or anything associated with it. I DO own Sarah though, so please be respectful and don't steal her (though, I don't know why you would WANT to. She's kind of a pain in the ass.)

* * *

Sarah had been there three times that week to have lunch with Marshall and Mary still hadn't seen the ring on her finger. Mary had found it two weeks ago and was starting to wonder when Marshall was going to pop the question. Maybe he was waiting for some kind of anniversary. They were going on seven months, nothing too spectacular to be celebrated unless Sarah was the kind of person that liked to celebrate every month they were together.

Mary didn't think she was that kind of girl, though she seemed shallow enough to expect something of that nature. Unfortunately, she was the kind of girl prone to public displays of affection. Mary had to watch every sickening kiss, hug and mushy pet name that the girl could think up. There were times Mary had to keep herself from physically gagging into the trash can.

"But sweetheart, I hate that diner. I don't understand your attraction to it." Sarah sat on the edge of his desk. Her skirt was still at a modest length but Mary wouldn't have put it past her to hike it up just for the hell of it. Marshall's eyes flitted towards Mary, so fast that Sarah didn't notice. If Mary hadn't been looking straight at him, she would have missed it too.

"I just do, honey," he answered. "How about the café that's on 5th?"

"Oh, I love that place!" She leaned down, kissing him full on the mouth. Mary had to turn away.

"Then I'll see you at twelve-thirty?"

"Sounds great." She eased herself off his desk, slinging her purse over her arm. She left, bestowing him with one final kiss.

"I think that was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life," Mary told him the second Sarah was down the elevator.

"So you're talking to me now?"

"Only to ask you to limit the public displays of affection when in the office. It's grossing us out."

"Actually," Eleanor butted in, "I think it's kind of cute."  
"You would."

"Just because you can't handle letting other people know you feel actual emotions, doesn't mean the rest of us are going to follow suite," Marshall told her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pooky, did I hurt your feelings?" Mary mocked. "Did you want me to give you a kissy-wissy to make you feel better?" She puckered her lips, making obnoxious kissing sounds. "Or maybe you'd just like take another shot at my love life." She stood up and put some files away, shutting the file cabinet harder than usual. Marshall sighed internally. She was still angry at him, not that he was surprised. Though, to Mary's credit, it was the longest that she had ever held a grudge. Two weeks and she hadn't said a word that wasn't work related until today. He had tried talking to her, but she wouldn't listen until she wanted to.

Marshall just wished he had some idea as to when that was going to be. Sarah seemed to be pushing all of Mary's buttons, making her even more angry which in turn made their working relationship that much harder. Things weren't easy any more. Of course, they weren't exactly peachy to begin with, nothing with Mary was ever particularly easy, but it was comfortable. Yes, she was a handful, but she was _his_ handful and he liked it that way. He watched her stalk out to the balcony. When she wasn't looking, he snuck out behind her, blocking her escape.

"You have to talk to me eventually," he said to her. She jumped slightly but didn't turn around. "Mary, I'm sorry for what I said. It just… slipped out."

"Funny how it didn't seem to slip out until you started dating her."

"You had to know that, eventually, you were going to provoke me into saying something mean. Law of averages."

"Whatever. I wasn't even that mean. You should learn to suck it up by now."

"And you should learn the world isn't your punching bag. Looks like we're both still getting schooled," he practically yelled at her. There was long silence, both partners stewing in their anger.

"How did you even know?" she finally asked.

Marshall shrugged then realized that she couldn't see him. "I didn't really. I just know you. I didn't think Raph had been the one to end it. I figured you had gotten cold feet. Maybe it wasn't even cold feet. Maybe it was just that it had taken you that long to figure out that you weren't really in love with him."

Mary wrapped her arms around herself. When she turned to look at Marshall his heart almost broke. He had never seen her look so completely sad, so incredibly lost. He came over, standing close and nudging her with his shoulder.

"I tried," she told him. "I really wanted it to work but the closer we got to the wedding date, the bigger the feeling was that I wasn't doing the right thing." He didn't answer her, knowing that she didn't really want to hear anything. She had just finally decided that he could know.

* * *

"I'm coming!" Marshall yelled as he walked towards the door. Only one person would ring the doorbell and then knock, or rather pound, less than thirty seconds later.

"I'm not even in the house and already you're getting off? Little quick on the trigger there, Marshall?" Mary grinned at him from the other side of the doorway. Marshall stood aside to let her in.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and handed it to her. She took it and sat on one of the barstools at the counter. Popping off the top, she flung it at the back of his head. He ducked without even turning around and the metal cap plinked into the sink.

"My mother is driving me absolutely crazy. Brandi is getting married. I don't understand why she can't go live with Peter until then."

"You were fighting with your mother about what your sister is going to do?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "That sounds about right for your family."

"Shut up. Are you done with my sandwich yet?"

In fact, he was almost done, cutting it down the middle. Making Mary food when she walked in the door was so second nature to him he almost hadn't noticed that he was doing it while they talked. He put it on a plate and handed it to her, watching her take a bite and then wash it down with beer. She took her plate and headed into his den, plopping herself on the couch. Marshall followed her, sitting down with a little more grace. They left the TV off knowing that they weren't going to watch it anyways.

"And then of course the conversation went into why can't my mom get her own place to which I got the typical, 'I'm a recovering alcoholic and it's not good for me to be living by myself.' It's been two years since she quit drinking and she can't live by herself and resist temptation by now?"

"You're such a supportive daughter."

"I let her live in my house rent free for years. I'm an awesome daughter."

Marshall tried choking back a laugh but it didn't work. Mary hit him, though not with her usual force. "I'm sorry, Mare, but the word awesome is not the word I'd use to describe you in relation to your mother."

"I don't completely suck as a daughter," Mary grumbled.

"No, you don't. It's very noble of you to allow your mother to live with you for so long." There was only a trace of teasing in his voice. Mary didn't join him. Her face was drawn and sullen and actually seemed to be upset about the events that had occurred at home. "What really happened tonight at your house?"

"What are you talking about? I told you what happened."

"Your mom getting on your case about where she and Brandi should live doesn't make you this depressed. That's practically a daily conversation in your house." He nudged her with his shoulder. "What's really bothering you?"

Mary was silent for awhile and Marshall had to refrain from bugging her about it more. He knew that, when she was ready, she would tell him. It was always that way with her. It was one of the first things he had learned being her friend. Finally she took a deep breath and spoke. "Jinx blamed me for it."

"For what?"

"Raph. Her drinking. Everything bad that's ever happened to our family."

He wished she were kidding. He wished, more than anything, that she were exaggerating. But he knew that she wasn't. The Mary that was sitting next to him right now was a Mary that he was fairly certain that was one that was only shown to him. Mary didn't like to be vulnerable, didn't like to show anyone that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't invincible.

So he did something that Mary very rarely let anyone do. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as she leaned against him. "Don't let her get to you. It's not your fault. Jinx just doesn't know where else to place the blame for her problems. And now that she can't drown herself in a bottle, she has to let that frustration out somewhere else. In fact, it's a common occurrence in recovering alcoholics. Statistics show-"

"Marshall."

"Sorry." They just sat there for a minute, Marshall's arm around her shoulders and Mary using his shoulder as a pillow.

"Hey, Marshall! I- oh, hello, Mary," a voice called into the house.

The pair looked up from the couch and saw Sarah standing behind them. Mary sat up and took a sip of her beer. Marshall leaned back on the arm of the couch, putting some distance between Mary and him.

"Hey, Sarah," Mary answered, raising her beer in salute. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." Sarah barely inclined her head towards the blonde and her mouth turned down at the corners. "Marshall, I thought that we were going to have dinner tonight?" She tilted her head slightly towards the bag of groceries in her arms. Marshall stood up so fast he almost tripped over himself trying to get to her. He took the bag from her hands, kissed her hello and started unloading groceries. Mary took it as her cue. She finished the last of the beer and stood, pulling on her coat.

"I'm going to head out, Marshall," she called to him.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow," he called back.

"What was that all about?" Sarah asked when she heard the door close. Marshall looked at her, eyes wide in confusion.

"What was… what all about?" he asked slowly. He started chopping up vegetables, throwing them into a pot of water she had put on to boil. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

"You and Mary cuddling on the couch," she clarified. Marshall burst out laughing until he realized she was serious.

"We weren't cuddling. Mary just needed a friend."

"That's what it looked like, what with your arm around her." Her foot started tapping and Marshall knew that he was in trouble, he just couldn't figure out why.

"Mary has a lot of problems with her family. They're… not the best people. Sometimes, she just needs someone to vent to." He shrugged and went back to his vegetables. "I'm her friend. I'm not going to turn her away when she needs one the most."

Sarah unfolded her arms and leaned against the counter. "That looked like more than just friendship. The two of you looked like a couple."

Marshall used all of his effort not to laugh. The last word he would ever have used to describe Mary and he was "couple." He walked around the island, stepping close to Sarah. "Mary is like family. Our relationship is professional, friendly and familial. But, believe me, we are not a couple. You and I, _we_, are a couple."

Sarah looked at her feet, trying to put on an angry face but Marshall knew she wasn't mad anymore. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you; I just don't understand your relationship with Mary."

Marshall laughed, kissing her then turning his attention back to the pot on the stove. "It's alright. Not a lot of people do."

* * *

"Marshall, have you called the hotel in DC yet? We're supposed to be flying out there this weekend."

"I asked Eleanor to do it for me," Marshall answered, neck deep in paper work. Mary was having her own troubles getting things together. They were expected to be in DC for at least a week, and, with Stan also out, Eleanor was going to have to hold down the fort with two Marshals that were helping out for the week. There was a lot of work to be done before the two left for DC with their witness.

"I booked you at a Holiday Inn in downtown DC," Eleanor said as she dropped the travel plans onto Mary's desk. "It's in a pretty busy part of town so it will be easy to lose a tail-"

"You've obviously never driven in DC during rush hour," Mary interrupted. Eleanor continued as if Mary hadn't said a word.

"And I made sure you were put in a room with few windows and in the middle of a hallway so that it will be hard to pick out."

"It's almost like you listen to us when we talk to you," Mary said, glancing over the papers.

"Don't get used to it. I only did it because Marshall threatened me."

Both women turned their heads towards the oblivious man. Marshall looked up, saw them looking at him and gave them a confused expression. "What?"

"And you believed him?" Mary mumbled.

"He bribed me."

"I'm sitting right here," Marshall interjected.

"What could he have possible bribed you with?"

Eleanor gave a dramatic sigh. "He promised he would wear those tight jeans that I like so much."

"The ones that make his ass look so good?" Mary asked, raising her eyebrows. "I'd take that bribe."

"I'm going to lunch," Marshall announced.

"Bye, honey cakes," they both called after him.

"Oh, and pick me up a Big Mac!" Mary added as the elevator door closed. "Do you think he heard me?"

Eleanor shrugged before she walked back to her desk. Marshall returned about a half hour later and plopped a Big Mac, fries and a drink on her desk. "I'm glad that you heard me," Mary said as she took a sip of her drink. "I wasn't sure that you had."

"Heard you do what?"

"I asked you for a Big Mac before you left."

"I didn't hear you."

"Then why did you buy me one?"

"Because you always want one," Marshall said, his tone of voice indicating it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mary took a bite of her sandwich. "It's like I'm a kept woman."

"Minus the whole woman part."

Mary threw a pickle slice at him. "And minus the part where you always forget to ask them to leave off the pickles."

"Maybe I just leave them on there because I know it annoys you."

"I knew you've been conspiring against me."

"What are the travel plans for transporting Nancy?" Marshall asked her, taking the hotel reservations off her desk. "Or have you fallen into your usual methods of procrastination?"

"Ye of little faith." She pulled tickets out of her side drawer and placed them next to Marshall. "We leave here, connect in Chicago and once again in Boston. And if we haven't completely confused someone by then, we're going to check into our flight into Regan, but really rent a car and drive from Boston to DC."

"I award you ten ninja points."

"Thank you. I'll need all the points I can get for this trip."

Marshall sighed, placing their hotel reservations on top of the plane tickets. "Yeah, it's not going to be an easy trip. I wish it didn't have to be somewhere so populated." The trip had them both a little worried. There was a reason that Nancy was in witness protection. Jason, a mob boss that she was testifying against, had a lot of men at his disposal. They would have to be careful when they went to DC. There would be more people than the two marshals liked and more than enough of them would be controlled by Jason.

Mary closed down her computer and threw a few things into a bag. She had a lot to get done and very little time to finish it. "Can you handle things around here? I have to deal with some stuff before I go. I have a few witnesses to visit before I'm out of reach for a week."

"Yeah, I can handle it. If anything comes up, I'll call you."

"Thanks, Marshall."

* * *

When Marshall walked into his apartment, the smell of spiced meat hit his senses immediately. It smelled wonderful, especially after the long day he had. He was happy for the surprise of not having to cook himself a meal tonight. He walked into the kitchen and Sarah was standing over the stove, tasting some sauce out of the pot. She dropped the spoon back in when she was finished and stirred in a little bit of salt. Her ability to cook was one of the first things that Marshall had learned about her after they had started dating and he was more than happy to hand his kitchen over to her.

"Ewww, cooties," he joked, reaching for the spoon. She slapped his hand softly, knowing that he was going in for his own taste.

"No sampling. And if my cooties haven't done anything to you by now, I don't think putting any in the sauce is going to change that. Welcome home." Marshall leaned down, kissing her briefly.

"Mmmm, I love me some sauce tainted cooties."

"You're so odd sometimes, Marshall."

"So, what inspired this impromptu dinner date?" He leaned over the sauce and dipped his finger in, snatching a taste when she wasn't looking.

Sarah rinsed some dishes off in the sink before turning back around. Marshall had erased all evidence that he had sampled the food. Somehow she knew anyway and shook her head at him. "I have to admit, it's kind of a bribe."

"You can bribe me anytime if this is the result." He tried going back for a second taste but she stopped him.

"There isn't going to be any left for the food if you keep eating it."

"I don't take that much," he protested. Sarah just looked at him in disbelief. "So, why are you bribing me again?"

"Well, my parents are going to be in town this weekend. I was really hoping that we could all have dinner so they could meet you." She stepped close to him, wrapping her arms slowly around his waist. She wasn't wearing heels, making it so the top of her head barely brushed his chin.

"Sweetheart, I have to work this weekend."

"You can't get someone to cover for you?" She gently bit his collar bone.

"It's not the type of thing that someone else can do for me."

"Please, honey? Can't you just get away for a few hours?" Her lips travelled from his collar bone to his neck.

Marshall sighed internally, realizing that he was going to have to tell her more than he had planned on. "I'm not even going to be in town this weekend."

All petting immediately stopped and Sarah pulled back, looking at him shocked. "_Excuse_ me?"

"I'm… going on a business trip."

"And exactly when were you planning on telling me you were going on this trip?"

Marshall may not have had a ton of successful relationships in his life, but even he was smart enough to know that "never" wasn't the right answer here. Unfortunately, any answers he did have were just going to lead to more questions, most of which he knew he wasn't going to be able to answer. It was time for Sarah and him to sit down and talk about what he really did for a living. Or rather, tell her that he never could. That he was a Marshal and worked in Law Enforcement just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

"I think we need to talk." He gestured to the living room and Sarah went, angered looked on her face the entire time. She sat down on the couch, legs and arms crossed. Marshall ran a hand through his hair and sat down next to her. "Sarah… I'm not a exactly in the brand of Law Enforcement that you think I am."

"I know; you're a Marshal. As in those people who carry guns on planes so terrorists don't take over."

"No, that's an Air Marshal."

"So what does the regular kind do? I'm still not understanding."

"That's just it. I can't tell you what I do past the fact that I'm a Marshal."

Sarah laughed, actually laughed until she, very quickly, realized that he wasn't kidding. "You're shitting me."

"No, I'm actually completely serious. I'm going on a trip out of town with Mary this weekend but I can't give you a location or a time frame or a reason. I might be gone a week. I might be gone two days. To be honest, I'm not even completely sure how long but even if I did, I couldn't tell you that either."

"I don't believe this. You are feeding me this and you actually expect me to believe that you can't tell me anything about what you do? Seconds after I find out you're going on a trip with your _female_ partner?"

"Think about it, Sarah. How many times have you actually heard me talk about my job? In detail? In eight months, name me one time that I told you something more than the fact that I was a Marshal."

She wanted to name him a million because she didn't think it was possible that he hadn't talked about it all this time and she hadn't noticed. She didn't want to know that she was that unobservant, but she couldn't think of a single time that he had mentioned anything. It had taken him about three months to tell her about his partner. She didn't know who his boss was, what he did during his day and she needed security clearance to get into his building.

"You weren't going to tell me that you would be out of town, were you?" She didn't look at him, just kept her eyes on her hands.

"I figured, the longer you didn't have to know about my job, the better things would be. It's not exactly a conversation starter. 'Hey, my name is Marshall and I work for a secret part of the government and can't tell you anything about my job.'"

Sarah couldn't keep from laughing. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, I probably wouldn't have dated you."

Marshall hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "I know it's difficult but you have to trust me."

"This is one of those things that's not going to change, is it? This is something you love that I'll never be able to convince you to leave."

"Yeah, I can't really see myself doing anything else."

She turned so she could kiss him. "If you love it, then I'm ok with it. It's a little unconventional to be sure but as long as your happy…" she shrugged. "I either take you with your quirks or I don't take you at all. Right now, I like you more than I care about what you do for a living. Or who you do it with, for that matter."

"Thanks for being so understanding, Sarah."

She got to her feet, taking Marshall's hand and pulling him up in the process. "Let's eat before everything burns and we have to order that awful take out that you like so much."

"That Chinese restaurant is amazing."

"As long as you don't mind food poisoning."

"I told you not to touch the Lo Mein."


	4. Chapter 4

Newest chapter! My ever awesome beta, lady_mars, got the next ten pages back to me so I have this chapter and one more before there might be a slight break in updates. I know it's been a few days but sometimes, life just gets in the way. Also, I have to find the right balance between writing new material and reading over the edited stuff before I post it. Thank you for all the reviews!

* * *

The white sedan pulled up to the courthouse minutes before the trial was starting. Mary and Marshall had planned it that way, leaving the least amount of time possible for them to be waiting outside. Once Nancy was in the court room it would be that much harder for Jason to get to her. They both searched the parking lot before they let her get out of the car. No one wandered around, nor was anyone sitting in their car, waiting. Mary nodded to Marshall who then opened the back door, letting Nancy out.

"This way," he said, gesturing towards Mary who had already started walking. Marshall brought up the rear, sandwiching Nancy between them. She looked nervous but felt safe between the two Marshals. She knew that they would sacrifice themselves before they would let anything happen to her.

The group slipped into the front doors, Mary nodding to security as they went in. Pockets were emptied, watches removed and the three moved through the metal detectors easily. Marshall had been right about the timing. The halls were practically empty, everyone already in court or their own meetings. The few people that littered the halls paid little attention to the three people walking quickly through them.

They didn't walk directly into the courtroom. Like all their witnesses, Nancy would be kept in a room behind the court. She would be brought in when she needed to testify and then quickly removed. Her movement would be limited while they were in DC, but she had known all this going in. It was a necessary evil to keep her safe.

There wasn't much to do while they waited for their witness to be called up. Marshall read something Mary didn't recognize, but she usually didn't. Nancy surfed the internet, trying to occupy her mind. Her fingers tapping against the keys gave away how nervous she actually was. Jason would be in that court room. He would know exactly where she was, if only for the brief time she would be on the stand. Mary just looked out the window. This was the worst part, this waiting. There was only one way in and out of this room and it was three stories up. With one window, there was little to defend. Marshall had placed himself between the door and Nancy, Mary between Nancy and the window.

When the bailiff came in and told them it was time, Nancy handled it surprisingly well. They walked into the crowded room, the Marshals standing close. Nancy placed her hand on the bible offered to her.

"Do you, Maria Louis Bishop, swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

Both lawyers questioned her, asking her every detail of what she had seen and heard. The defense attorney got a little too personal for Mary's liking before the judge finally reeled him in. Despite the difficulty, despite Jason sitting not twenty feet away from her, Nancy held her chin up and got through it.

They ordered Chinese when they got back to the hotel at Nancy's request. Comfort food, she had said. The two Marshals were more than accustomed to take out and they had been to DC often enough that they knew several places that had great Chinese. Mary ordered, having it delivered to the front desk.

They were eating Chinese and watching TV when the knocked at the door came. Mary's eyes shot to Marshall and he just shook his head, ever so slightly.

"Who is it?" Mary called, hand already reaching for her gun.

"Pizza," came the voice from the other side of the door. The door was locked, chain drawn but both Marshals immediately pulled out their Glocks. Marshall grabbed Nancy, barring her in the bathroom. Mary flattened herself next to the door. She nodded at Marshall, indicating he should speak.

"We didn't order a pizza."

"Room 304. It's already paid for."

Mary couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Crooks were just about the most unimaginative guys in the entire world. A sharp look from Marshall brought all of her focus to the felon that was on the other side of the door.

"Just leave it by the door," Marshall called.

"Fine." Things were silent for a minute but neither believed that the man had left. Mary flipped off the light and the light from under the door showed up like a beacon. Two shadows indicated that the person was still there, biding his time. It also proved that there was no pizza. Mary flipped the light back on and they waited, silent. Marshall guarded the bathroom door where Nancy was, crouched in the bathtub. After a second or two, a bullet came right through the peephole.

"Down!" Mary screamed. The bullets were being shot through the door now, not limiting themselves to the peephole. Mary saved her shots, knowing that they wouldn't go through the door. The bad guys always seemed to have better equipment. Mary hugged the wall, avoiding the shots as she made her way towards Marshall and their witness. The guy finally burst through the mangled door. Now Mary had a clear shot of him and she took it, easily lining up the sights and firing. The guy dropped and took cover in the closet that was by the door. Mary cursed and flipped the table that was in the room. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing, which was their other option. Whoever was trying to get to Nancy would have to go through both Marshals to do it.

The thug in their closet got off two more shots. They returned fire but missed, as did the next few shots from the criminal. The two slugs landed into the bathroom door. Mary saw his shoulder and aimed, barely missing him. She shot again but this time, heard only a click. Cursing, she reached for her extra magazine. The cursing came in ten fold when she realized that it was still sitting on top of the dresser where she had laid it when she was guarding the door. Marshall had already slipped his spare into his gun.

"I have to get the spare magazine," she whispered to him as they were shot at again. "We're going to have real problems if we run out of ammo."

"We should forget the magazine on the dresser, go for the spare under the bed. More cover that way." He looked above the table, took two shots and then ducked again when more bullets came. The table, its surface harder than the door, was holding up so far against the shooting but it wouldn't last long. They had to end it but they would need all of their fire power to do it.

"We both go, split his fire. He can't shoot at both of us," Mary finally told him. "We don't have another choice."

It didn't take a genius to know Marshall didn't like the idea. In fact, his facial expression very clearly stated that he hated the idea. Unfortunately, he also knew that their options were limited. He gritted his teeth and nodded curtly. Mary turned to make a dash for it but Marshall grabbed her wrists, squeezing it gently.

"Be careful," he told her seriously. Mary nodded before reading herself again. "Ready… now!"

Mary stood as Marshall did, each making a dash for their respective goals. Mary had been right; the shooter had one gun and had to focus on one of them. Unfortunately, he decided to aim for Mary, the closer of the two targets and the one with less cover. She managed to dodge most of the shooting and grabbed her spare magazine but, as she was heading back she lost her balance, tripping on the debris that had accumulated during the shootout. She didn't fall down but it gave their thug just enough time to aim more accurately. Just before the bullet hit, something huge rammed into her and knocked her to the ground. Mary didn't see what happened, but there were two shots and then she heard someone grunt in pain. The shooting stopped and, after a second, Marshall got up and let Mary up. Marshall checked the guy's pulse but he shook his head. He came back to Mary and kneeled next to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he looked over her. She didn't seem to have any scratches on her. "Did you get hit?" His face and voice were panicked, frightened and worried.

"Calm down, Marshall. I'm fine."

A few of the worry lines eased but she could tell it had an effect on her partner. Watching a partner get hit was hard. She knew; she had almost lost it at the worst moment when Marshall had been shot. The anxious expression on his face told her that he was feeling the same thing.

"Are you sure you're OK?" He took her face in his hands, turning it side to side to inspect it. She would have a little bump on her head, it was already starting to form, but other than that she looked fine. Marshall hugged her and Mary let him, being just as shaken up by the experience as him. After a minute, she pulled away.

"We have to check on Nancy. She's probably freaking out." Mary went to the door and knocked on it, warning her. "Nancy, it's Mary. I'm coming in." Mary opened the door and pulled the shower curtain open. Nancy sat inside, knees pulled to her chest, eyes forward looking at nothing.

"Is it over?" she whispered. Mary sat next to the tub and Marshall stood in the doorway, his eyes on the door to the hotel. He was already calling it in, getting the feds in to clear away the body and get Nancy relocated.

"No," Mary told her honestly. "It's going to continue for a very long time. Your whole life, someone is going to be looking for you. But it's my job to hide you and I'm not going to let anyone find you.

"Someone already did." Tears started streaming down her face, the fear and adrenalin catching up to her.

"Someone followed us from the courthouse. The trial is the most dangerous part. Jason knows that you're here, that this is the easiest time to find you. He knows that the second your part in the trial is over, he's never going to see you again."

"What if he gets to me before I go back?" She turned her head, her eyes finally focusing on Mary.

"If that's the best he's got," Mary said, jerking her head towards where the guy lay, "then no one is ever going to get anywhere near you." They both sat for a few minutes, no other sound than Marshall talking to the FBI on the phone. Finally Mary stood up and held her hand out to Nancy. She took it, allowing Mary to pull her to her feet. "C'mon, we have to find a new place to stay."

"Eleanor already found one," Marshall said, walking into the bathroom. "She said she made reservations at many places, just in case we needed it."

"I might have to give that woman a cookie when we get back," Mary mumbled. "How close are the feds?"

"Heading upstairs now."

"Alright, let's get out of here before anything else happens."

* * *

They moved to a hotel across town with a FBI escort. Two agents stood outside the hotel room, ready to be the first defense. The Marshals weren't trying to hide her anymore. Now they were resorting to brute force. If anyone came looking for Nancy, they would see the two feds that were posted in the hallway. They would miss the SWAT team that waited in the hotel room across the hall. Nancy had fallen asleep on the bed closest to the wall and her two protectors faced the door of the room, sitting in hard hotel chairs.

"You should sleep, Mary." Marshall's gun was in easy reach of his hand. Mary sat next to him, her right foot bouncing slightly. He knew she was too keyed up to sleep despite being mostly still. Mary shook her head slightly.

"I'm fine."

"You won't be tomorrow if you don't get some sleep."

Mary sighed but she wasn't really agitated. They had both had more excitement that night than anticipated. Usually they were better at losing a tail, but DC just had too many people in it. It was one of the worst places to try and keep someone safe. Mary's body was tired, she could feel it underneath everything, but her mind wouldn't stop running. She knew she'd never be able to rest and tomorrow was going to be hell because of it.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" she asked him.

"Not tired," he told her. That wasn't the entire truth, of course. He had almost lost Mary. He would have thought that, after all the close calls she'd had, he'd be used to it, but he was finding that every time he felt his chest constrict. No, he had to stay awake to make sure that he had done everything possible if he had to protect her. If it came down to a choice between Mary and him, he wanted to make sure it was Mary.

He watched as the bouncing switched from her right foot to her left. He placed a hand on her leg, just enough to still it and looked at her. "Get some sleep." If his voice hadn't been so soft, she would have thought it was an order but she knew he was just worried. "One of us has to be on our game in the morning."

She could see him silently pleading with her, telling her that this was something he needed her to do. She conceded, getting up and heading over to the spare bed. She took off her holster but put the gun within reach. Even with as much firepower as they had she still wasn't taking any chances. She didn't even bother getting under the covers, just lay down on the bed and dutifully closed her eyes. Within minutes her body, more powerful than her mind in its exhaustion, put her to sleep.

* * *

The rest of the week went by fairly uneventfully. At the very least no other thugs tried to kill them. Nancy was surrounded by the two Marshals and two FBI Agents, minimum, at all times. On Thursday, she had done all that she needed and Mary and Marshall prepared for the trip back up north to drop off the rental. This time they were going to leave from New York instead of Boston. JFK was a bigger airport, something the Marshals hoped would help them instead of hurt them. Mary drove, being better at weaving through traffic than Marshall ever was. Of course, it was mostly because she drove like a maniac, but it made it easier to tell if the car was being followed.

Things were going fine until they hit Delaware. Mary had been glancing out of her mirrors almost nonstop since DC. "Four cars back, left lane," she said to Marshall. He didn't need an explanation, just looked into the side mirror. Mary switched lanes, passing a green Mustang and yellow Neon before sliding easily into the middle lane again. Marshall watched and, sure enough, a black Honda moved into the left lane, passed two cars and was, once again, two cars behind them.

"Damn it," he muttered.

"That's putting it mildly."

"How long?"

"I only spotted them about five miles back, but I would guess since DC." She shifted into the right lane, passing another car, but didn't change back right away. There were four cars in the left lane so if the bad guys didn't want to lose her they were going to have to get into the right lane, hopefully giving Mary a clear shot of their faces. Sure enough, they came into her lane and Mary could see them and their surprised faces. They weren't expecting her to still be there. She saw two men, they looked Italian but she couldn't be a hundred percent sure, both in nondescript clothes. One of the men was heavier than the other, the driver, and sunglasses hid their eyes. They moved back into the middle lane before she could see anything else.

"Nice move," Marshall told her. "What do you want to do now?"

Mary wasn't sure. She didn't want to do anything that could tip them off that she knew they were there but she didn't like the fact that Nancy's head was above the seat. She was afraid that if she told the witness to duck, they would figure it out. "Nancy, you have to lie down on the seat, but do it slowly. Make it look like you're lying down to get some sleep."

"How do I do that?" She had the urge to look behind her but the Marshals had told her from the start of the trip she was never to do that. She had to keep her eyes forward.

"Just shift around a lot. Make it look like you're trying to get comfortable."

Nancy moved, playing with her seatbelt, sliding to one end of the bench and then finally laying down. She looked at Mary's profile through the seats. The driver looked calm with the barest hint of tension in her eyes.

"Did you get the plates, Marshall?"

"HK-5197."

"Call the Delaware State PD. Tell them to wait about two miles before the state line and give them our plates and the other car's plates."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'm going to speed excessively."

"How is that going to help?"

"It'll give the cops an excuse to pull our mystery car over. Just make sure that they don't announce it over the radio. If they do, and the Honda behind us is listening to a scanner, we're screwed."

Marshall nodded, dialing. Within five minutes he was off the phone. "A cop was already there. He was running radar at the toll plaza. The Lieutenant said that we should get into the left hand E-ZPass lane. They're going to clear it out so that we can blow right through it."

Mary nodded and pressed on the accelerator. She easily weaved between cars, her speedometer pushing eighty. The cop was sitting behind the first sign for the toll plaza. If Mary hadn't been watching for him she never would have noticed. The Honda, now only two cars behind her certainly wouldn't. The car directly behind them merged into the middle lane and slowed down, leaving no cars between Mary and the Honda. It was too late for them to do anything. Mary blew past the cop and, seconds later, so did the black Honda. Blue and red lights flashed in her rearview. She kept moving but she could see the indecisiveness of the other car. Pull over and lose the target or try and outrun the cop. They decided for discretion and pulled over to the side of the road. Mary kept pace and saw the empty toll lane ahead. The E-ZPass didn't even register she was going by it so fast. Mary didn't slow down until traffic forced her to in New York City.


	5. Chapter 5

It's done!!!!  And by done I mean I've finished writing. This is the last beta'd chapter that I have. I've sent the next two chapters to my Beta and she's working on them so as soon as they're returned, I'll post them (and send her the next two chapters.) However, I thought I'd let everyone know it IS, at the very least, completed. Thanks for all the reviews and, as always, thanks to my beta, ladymars.

* * *

"Marshall?" Sarah called into his house. She knew that he was home; he had called her when she had gotten off the plane and his door was unlocked. She heard his footfalls above her head and seconds later he appeared, a little disheveled but smiling. He walked to her and hugged her, lifting her off the ground.

"Good to see you too," she laughed as she kissed him. He didn't answer, just kissed her again, then her neck, then her exposed shoulders. Sarah realized the dinner he suggested wasn't on his mind at all. He placed her back on her feet, kissing her again.

"Well, this is awkward."

The two jumped at the sound of Mary's voice, separating and turning towards the open door. Sarah looked down at her feet, slightly embarrassed but Marshall stared at Mary. He was annoyed and Mary could see it clearly in his face.

"What are you doing here, Mary?" he asked. "I just saw you an hour ago."

"I know."

Marshall realized that Mary looked confused. Her eyes kept darting from Marshall to Sarah and back again, question in her eyes. Unfortunately, he was just a little too tired to figure out what that question was. Then he noticed the two bags of Indian food in her hands. The food that they both loved but usually didn't get because the heartburn you got was so bad after you ate it. The food she always brought over after they had a trip exactly like the one they had just had.

Marshall was torn. He had called Sarah because he had wanted to see her. After a week of being away, Mary being the only one around, he had been ready for some distinctively female presence. On the other hand, the food in Mary's hands smelled like heaven.

"Marshall," Sarah said quietly. She had been expecting some alone time. She hadn't seen him for a week, hadn't been able to talk to him. The worst part was she didn't even know where he was or how long he was going to be gone. Now he was back and Mary was once again standing at his door. It seemed that he spent more time with her than he did with himself.

Both women looked at him, expecting him to pick her over the other. Marshall kept glancing between them, hoping that one would give in. One of them was going to get hurt. He had someone new in his life, someone Mary was just going to have to learn to accept, as impossible as that notion seemed. At the same time, he didn't want his relationship with Sarah ruining the friendship that he had with Mary. No one got him like Mary did.

"Maybe I should just leave," Sarah conceded, slipping from Marshall's grip.

"Sarah-" But she had already slipped out of the door and headed towards her car. Mary was smirking and Marshall had to resist the urge to hit her.

"She looks mad," Mary commented, smile still wide on her face. Marshall stalked past her, reaching Sarah before she got into the car.

"Please don't leave."

"You can't have us both there. Either you want to be with me or you want to be with Mary."

"I shouldn't have to pick between you two and it's not fair to ask."

"I'm just sick of being a relationship where I have to compete for my boyfriend's attention. That woman doesn't like me and she's bound and determined to push me out of your life." Her voice was harsh but whispered so that Mary wouldn't overhear.

"She's not trying to do anything of the sort. Mary is… complicated. She probably doesn't even realize that she's butting in. She just knows that, after a week like we had, it means Indian food at my place." He shrugged, not knowing how else to explain it to her. Mary just did what she did and never really thought about anything else. She didn't ask to come over because she never had to before. Why would she suddenly start doing it now?

Sarah's face softened slightly. "Tomorrow, can we have some alone time then? I missed you."

Marshall leaned down and kissed her, soft but long. "Come over after work. We can spend as much time as you like together." He kissed her again before helping her into the car. When he had lost sight of it, he walked into his house, not wanting to have to deal with Mary. But something had to change and, if he didn't take care of it now, then it was just going to get worse.

"Hey, they didn't have any green peppers, only red ones, but the curry is so hot my throat burns smelling it." Mary sat on the couch, her back to Marshall. She didn't look at him as she talked. When he didn't answer she turned to look at him. "Did you hear me? You Ok, Marshall?"

He wasn't Ok. In fact, things were going to get miserable pretty quickly. Mary was going to have to change and he knew how difficult, near impossible, that was for her. But if things were going to work between Sarah and him, something had to change when it came to his relationship with Mary.

"Sarah was angry."

"She'll get over it."

"She shouldn't _have_ to get over it. She's my girlfriend, Mare. She's going to start hanging around here a whole lot more. You have to understand that; you have to be more careful when you come over."

Mary gave him a look between confusion and derangement. "What for?"

"Because of stuff like what just happened. I was planning to have an intimate evening with my girlfriend. Instead I'm having one with my partner."

"I wasn't planning on having an intimate anything with you, Marshall."

She wasn't listening because it was Mary and her hearing was so selective sometimes that it made Marshall want to tear his hair out. This time that didn't happen. This time the combination of exhaustion, frustration and anger caused him to explode at her.

"Could you stop to think of anyone but yourself for a second? Did it ever occur to you that maybe I like this girl? That I enjoy her company and you constantly interrupting us is not something I'm prepared to put up with!"

Mary all but jumped to her feet in defense. "What the hell, Marshall? You act like I'm trying to sabotage your relationship."

"Maybe you are!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, I am not! How the hell am I supposed to know I wasn't supposed to come over!"

"You could have _called_."

"You never seemed to care before."

"I wasn't dating anyone before! If you had spent five seconds thinking about it, the thought might have occurred to you."

"I don't have the energy for your drama, Marshall. When midnight strikes and you stop being a princess, call me." She grabbed her jacket and slammed the door as she left.

* * *

Marshall had been quiet most of the evening. He knew he wasn't being as social as he could be but he just was too stressed out to talk. Mary and he had been fighting for days now, every word coming out of their mouths being hurtful. The thing with best friends and partners was that they knew all the dirt on each other so when fights occurred, things got messy. Things were very messy with Mary and him right now. The worst part was he was sure she hadn't even done her worst yet. Stan had just about murdered the two of them and then left when they tried to drag him into it. Usually Marshall didn't give in to Mary's childish tendencies but they were getting less and less childish and more and more vengeful.

"What are you thinking about?"

Marshall looked down at the woman lying next to him. She shifted slightly to look at him and he could feel her bare skin slide against his own. He kissed her swiftly and just shook his head.

"Nothing important. Just letting my mind wander a bit." Marshall wasn't stupid enough to tell Sarah that he was thinking of another woman while in bed with her. Sarah accepted the answer and, with a cat-like smile, once again cuddled into his side.

"You've been really quiet tonight."

Marshall knew she was prying, but no amount of questioning would get him to tell her. "Just had a long week, I guess."

She was silent for another moment before hesitantly starting her next sentence. "Tonight was really wonderful, Marshall."

He smiled at her, glad that she had forgotten about the fiasco with Mary a few nights ago. "I'm glad."

"I'd really like to cook you dinner tomorrow night."

"That's fine. I can leave my key over the door for you again."

"I actually thought something else would be more prudent."

"Mmm?"

"Maybe you could give me your spare. Then neither of us would be without a key."

"Oh!" He had never really thought about it, though now that she mentioned it, it was logical. He knew that it was considered a big step, giving a key to your house to a significant other, but he liked the idea. The thought of Sarah being there when he got home, cooking, was a pleasant one. "That would be fine. Except…"

"Except?"

Marshall really didn't want to tell her this part but she would want to know why he wasn't giving her a key in the morning. "Well, I don't have any spares."

"You only have one copy to your house key?"

"No, I have three of them but I don't have two of them. I gave them to other people."

"Who did you give a copy of your house key to? Other girlfriends?" she joked.

"My parents have one," he told her. "Considering they live in Colorado I can't exactly go over there and ask for it back."

"You give your parents a key? That's adorable."

Marshall just shrugged. "They come to visit and I'm not always home when they get here. That way they can get into the house."

There were a few moments of silence before Sarah asked, "What about the third one?"

"What third one?"

"The third key. You said you had three copies of the key. Where's the third one?"

"… Mary has a copy."

Sarah sat up and gave him a look of disbelief. "Your partner has one? What does she need a key to your house for?"

"Because I was tired of her breaking into it. At the end of the day it was easier to give her one then have her take the window pane out every time she wanted to get in."

"Marshall, that woman is insane! Why do you insist on being friends with her? Associating with her at all?"

"She's my partner, Sarah. What am I supposed to do? Ignore her?"

"You take your relationship with her beyond just a partnership. Partners see each other at work. You insist on spending all of your free time with her too." She was looking around for her clothes, something that Marshall wanted to avoid. He didn't want Sarah to leave but he was tired of having the same argument over and over again.

"Your partner can't be just your partner," Marshall started to explain. "If your partner doesn't know you well, doesn't trust you, then it's not going to end well. I'm close with Mary, _friends_ with Mary, because when things get dangerous, I know that I can trust her with my life."

Sarah's efforts to get dressed stopped but Marshall got the feeling it was momentary. The look on her face was so much worse than unhappy. It was unhappy, angry, and hurt. It was the last one that upset Marshall the most. He didn't want to hurt her, but she had to understand that he wasn't going to just stop being close to Mary. It wasn't really an option for him. If he wanted to stay alive, Mary had to be the most important relationship in his life. He wasn't going to phrase it that way to Sarah, of course, but that didn't change the reality of it.

"Why don't I go to a hardware store tomorrow and make you a copy of my key?" He spoke calmly, trying to reassure her.

"I guess I can deal with that. I just don't see why she's such a big deal. Can't you get a new partner?"

Marshall knew the question wasn't a serious one but that didn't mean that it had no effect. Mary was his partner, his friend and if it weren't for the fact that she was a girl, he didn't think that the situation would have been a problem. Sarah didn't care that he was friends with his partner. Sarah cared that she was a she.

"Are you going to be like this with all my friends or just the female ones?" His voice was harsher than he had meant it to be but he was annoyed. He knew why Mary couldn't play nice. She didn't play nice with anyone but he had thought Sarah more evolved than that.

"What do you expect, Marshall?"

"I expect that you're going to accept the fact that I have female friends. I expect that you're going to trust me." They were both quiet, angry, bound and determined to win the argument. "Mary is my friend, my partner and she's not going anywhere any time soon. If you can't accept that," Marshall shrugged, "then this relationship isn't going to go anywhere."

"Are you breaking up with me… for her?"

"No, I'm simply telling you that there are some things in my life that aren't negotiable. Mary is one of them."

"She seems to be the only non-negotiable thing," Sarah spat at him as she grabbed her clothing. Marshall wasn't trying to stop her.

"No, but you haven't met my family yet so I figured it would be a poor example."

She didn't answer him, just threw her shoes on and slung her purse over her shoulder. "You don't even see it. It's sitting right in front of your face and you can't even figure it out. I must have been an idiot, thinking I could make this work," she mumbled to herself.

"What are you talking about?"

"Marshall, you're in love with her. You're completely in love with her and you can't even see it. The woman treats you terribly, doesn't care one iota for you and yet you spring to her defense every chance you get. Open your eyes before you hurt another girl." She didn't give him time to respond, just left with a slam of the door. Not long after Marshall heard the slam of his front door.

Once again, another relationship had crumbled. Marshall put his sweats on and went downstairs to pour himself a glass of scotch. Sarah had been right; he was in love with Mary. He had been in love with her since about day one, but hadn't said anything. They couldn't exactly date. Not only was Mary opposed to that kind of thing, so was the Marshal Service. So he had hidden anything he'd ever felt for her and even tried to start relationships with other women. He thought he had been better at hiding his feelings this time around. A part of him had actually genuinely liked Sarah. That part hadn't been enough.

His romances always failed, probably because, at the end of the day, he knew they weren't Mary. Marshall knew he loved Mary; he just hadn't accepted yet that meant that no other romantic relationship would ever work out in his life.

His phone, sitting next to the doorway, rang loudly. The caller ID said Mary's name. He came really close to hanging up on her but answered anyway.

"What?"

"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine?"

"Mary, it's been a long night. What do you want?"

"Stan needs us in now."

"It can't wait until morning?" It was nearly midnight. If Stan was calling them in this late Marshall knew he'd be in there all night. It was the last thing that he wanted.

"Nope, I already asked. He said ASAP."

"Fine. I'll see you in a half hour." They didn't even say goodbye as they hung up the phone. He squeezed his hand around the phone, willing himself not to throw it across the room in anger. He didn't want to go to work tonight. He didn't want to have to face Mary who would, inevitably, find out about Sarah. He didn't want to have to play nice.

Marshall put the phone down on the counter. He would do all of it because he was a Marshal. He could put it all aside because, at the end of the day, it was his _job_.


	6. Chapter 6

So, I have about three chapters after this one that have been to my beta and back. I just have to read through them myself and make sure that everything flows like I want it to. I have to add in a scene to the next chapter (that I haven't sent to my beta) before I send it to her, but that shouldn't take too long. All in all, things are moving at a pretty quick pace. Enjoy! And thank you to everyone who has been reading! And, as always, thank you to ladymars for being my beta.

* * *

"You look like shit," Mary commented when he walked in the door. Marshall ignored her and turned on his computer. Even Eleanor was sitting at her desk, impressively dressed like she hadn't been called in the middle of the night.

"Where's Stan? What's so important that we had to be dragged out of bed?"

"You weren't sleeping." She said it so matter-of-factly, Marshall wondered how she could possibly know.

"That's not the point. I could have been."

Mary was poised for a rebuttal, but Stan walked in, face grim, and waved them into his office. When he closed the door behind him, they both knew something was wrong.

"Nancy was found dead in her apartment tonight." There was no build-up, no informing them gently. Nancy had died, less than a week after her trial in Washington. Marshall put his hand on Mary's arm, steadying her. The color had drained from her face, all of her thoughts clearly written on her face.

"It wasn't your fault," Marshall told her softly.

"You don't know that." She managed to collect herself anyway, or at least enough to ask Stan, "How did it happen?"

"She was murdered. One shot through the back of the head, face mutilated."

"It was personal," Mary whispered, leaning forward, resting her palms on the edge of Stan's desk. "God, it was a personal hit."

"Mary." Marshall's voice was soft and he squeezed her arm gently. Her fingers were white from gripping the edge of Stan's desk so hard.

"What kind of leads do they have?"

"That's the only good news. The killer wasn't careful. Albuquerque PD found prints and are chasing the guy down as we speak."

"How…" She swallowed, trying to talk around the bump in her throat. "How was she found? How did they know she was here?"

"We're not sure yet, but I need the two of you to talk to her family, friends, acquaintances. You know the drill." He opened the door and called towards Eleanor. "Have you heard from Albuquerque PD yet?"

"They're expecting you in an hour," she called back.

"I'm going to head over there now. Give me a full update when I get back."

The two Marshals nodded. Mary stared out his office windows, watching him as he left. She didn't move, she didn't look at Marshall, she just continued to stare off into space.

"Mary," Marshall said. He shook her a little. "Mary."

She blinked, coming out of whatever trance she had been in. "Let's go call her family. Maybe we can find out what happened."

* * *

Mary retreated to the patio, in an attempt to shut everyone out, but Marshall wasn't going to let her. He followed, a cup of coffee in his hand. He was brave but not stupid. If he didn't approach her with some sort of gift, it wasn't going to end well for anyone.

She didn't even turn around when he approached, but she knew that he was there. She just didn't want to look at him. She was angry at the world and, since she had already been angry at Marshall, it just made her that much more mad at him.

"Go away," she said when he got too close. Marshall stopped but didn't go anywhere.

"You can't mope out here forever. At the very least you have to come inside and call her mother."

"I'll do it, but I don't need you around mothering me. Go away."

"I brought you some coffee. You're going to need it."

Mary finally turned to look at him and Marshall had to stop himself from comforting her when he saw the look on her face. Mary didn't want sympathy, didn't want obvious comfort. A person had to be much more covert with her. But she just looked worn out, devastated and like she had given up on everything. Maybe she had. She had lost her best friend and her witness, all in the same week. He held out the cup to her. She resisted at first but finally stretched out her arm to take it from him. He stepped closer until he was standing next to her. When she turned her gaze back to the city, he stayed where he was.

"Why are you being nice to me? Won't your _girlfriend_ get mad?"

Marshall winced, but was glad Mary wasn't looking at him to see. He didn't know what he had been thinking, exploding at Mary like he had. Sometimes she just stretched his self-control to its brink. Having to also use that self control around Sarah ate away at the infinite patience he usually seemed to have around Mary.

But Mary was his friend, the woman he loved, his partner, and he knew she would be around a lot longer than any girlfriend. Looking at her he knew that their relationship, whatever it was, was something that was going to be around for his entire life. Marshall smiled to himself, realizing that his feelings for Mary were probably why their relationship was the only one that seemed to work in his life.

"I don't have a girlfriend to get mad."

Her head turned towards him, a surprised look on her face. "What happened to Sarah?"

"She walked out on me about an hour ago, saying that I was in love with you."

Mary choked on the coffee she was sipping, laughter erupting from her mouth. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Not in the least. She said I was in love with my partner, that I didn't know it, and that I should figure it out before I hurt another woman."

"Wow, that woman has some issues." Mary took another sip of coffee, looking mildly better than she had five minutes ago. Marshall took it as a good sign and decided to approach the subject of Nancy.

"We need to call Nancy's mother. She may have a clue as to what happened."

She didn't want to think about her witness, the witness that had followed the rules and Mary had failed to protect. It was the first time she had ever actually had a witness killed because she couldn't protect her.

"This isn't your fault," Marshall told her again. If he didn't continue to remind her, he knew she would fall apart. "We don't know the whole story yet. Let's call her family. For all we know there could have been a leak somewhere. Don't blame yourself for this."

Mary took a deep breath, drawing the early morning air into her lungs, calming her mind and nerves all at the same time. "Ok," she finally said, nodding. "Let's start calling everyone she knew." She finished off the coffee in her mug.

They walked back in and Mary went straight to her desk, Marshall following close. The phone numbers for everyone in Nancy's life were sitting on Mary's desk. Her mother, Anita Bishop, was at the top of the list. Mary picked up the phone, dialing each number slowly and deliberately. Marshall leaned against her desk. It was around six AM in Maine, where Nancy had lived and witnessed the murder. An early hour but not unheard of. Anita picked up after the third ring.

"Hello?" The woman's voice was groggy. Mary had woken her.

"Ms. Bishop?"

"Speaking."

"This is Mary Shannon from the US Marshal Service. This is about Maria."

"You know where she is?" The woman's voice was stronger, much more awake at the sound of her daughter's name. "Please, I just need to talk to her. Just once."

The woman's voice was desperate and hopeful. She wanted nothing more than to talk to her daughter. Mary grasped Marshall's hand, squeezing it not for reassurance but to keep herself grounded. She was going to lose it if she didn't have something to hang on to.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Bishop. Maria was found dead in her apartment tonight." The line was silent. Mary didn't want to imagine the look on the woman's face. Mary actually preferred the ones that cried. Crying she could handle, but this silence, this dead tragic silence, was so much more heart breaking than crying could ever be. "I'm so sorry about your loss but I need to ask you a few questions."

"Go ahead," Anita whispered.

"Had Maria contacted you at all in the past year? Have you heard anything from her?"

"No, I haven't heard from Maria since the night she called me and told me she'd witnessed a murder and that she had to disappear. I have no idea where she went or if she was even alive."

"No letters, phone calls, any contact at all?"

"No, not one word."

"Thank you, Ms. Bishop. The Marshal Service will get in contact with you about your daughter's remains."

"Thank you, Miss Shannon."

The line went dead seconds later. No goodbye, no tears, just thanking Mary for returning Nancy's body.

"Do you need to leave?"

Mary looked up at her partner and noticed she was gripping his hand so hard hers was starting to hurt. She didn't let go, just nodded her head. She couldn't be in this office right now. She had to get out. She knew there was a ton of work to be done, too many people to call and talk to, but right this second, she just had to get out of the building.

They ended up at a nearby diner, one they frequented more often than not. Mary had even let Marshall drive. She picked at her food when they got there, not really hungry but not knowing what else to do. She was tired, absolutely exhausted and she knew that her sleep would be limited over the next few days. They still had a list of people to call when she returned to the office. For now, though, she just sat, pushing the remnants of her omelet around her plate.

"How do you know it wasn't my fault?" She didn't look up at him. She knew that he could read her better than anyone and she wasn't completely sure what her face would say. So, instead, she stared at her plate.

"Because I know you, Mare. I know that you would sacrifice yourself before you ever let a witness get hurt. I've seen you do that very thing." He leaned over and forced her chin up, forced her to look at him. "You are a great Marshal and we're going to find out how this happened."

They headed back after that. The sun had risen and it made Mary realize how long she'd been awake. She was feeling it, a tiredness that went down to the bone. She forced another cup of coffee down her throat, willing herself to stay awake until they found out what happened.

Stan came back around ten in the morning, looking as disheveled as his Marshals. Mary tore herself away from the list of names on her paper. So far she was coming up with a whole lot of nothing. No one had seen hear, heard from her or knew a single thing about her disappearance. Mary was glad for the interruption. She hoped that it would give her some sort of lead.

"Did you learn anything?" Mary asked him.

"It was Jason's man. Albuquerque PD has him locked up, but he refuses to tell us how he found her. We've tried everything to get him to talk but he's more scared of Jason than he is of us."

"Why admit that he worked for Jason, but not brag about how he did it?" Marshall mused. "Usually it's the other way around."

"He didn't tell us," Stan informed his Marshals. "His prints popped up. FBI has known for some time that he's one of Jason's men."

"That makes sense." Mary rubbed her eyes, willing herself to think. They knew who but they had to figure out what went wrong. She had to know if it was her or Nancy's slipup.

"What did you two find out?"

"Not much," Mary said to him. "I called the mother and she's had no contact with her. Neither have any of her other relatives. I was about to start the list of her friends."

"Ok, keep on it." Stan retreated to his office, picking up the phone and closing his door. Mary sat down behind her desk. Amie Leets was the next name on her list. Mary remembered the name. Amie had been Nancy's best friend, the girl that she told every joke, every story. They discussed everything from boys to books. Mary knew that telling Amie about Nancy's death would be just as horrible as telling her mother.

The phone rang twice before someone picked it up. "Amie speaking."

"Amie, this is Mary Shannon from the US Marshal Service."

"How can I help you?"

"Are you close with Maria Bishop?" Mary knew she was, but it was a standard question. People didn't like it when you knew things that you weren't supposed to.

"Yes, or at least I was. She disappeared about a year back."

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Maria was found dead in her apartment yesterday." Mary had to remind herself that it wasn't the same day anymore. She was pushing the thirty-six hour mark that she had been awake.

"Excuse me?" The words were whispered over the line.

"She was killed," Mary told her. "I am so sorry for your loss." Amie was a crier. She sobbed in heaves into the phone and Mary was almost relieved at the sound. She couldn't have held it together if she had gotten that silence again. "I know this is a hard time for you but I need you to answer a few questions."

"Y…yes, of c…course," she sobbed.

"Have you heard from Maria at all? Has she contacted you in any way over the past year?"

"I, um, haven't heard from her for about a year." She sniffed, trying to control herself. "I tried talking to her mother but, umm, she didn't know what had happened to her either."

"If you think of anything, please call me."

"Oh, there was one thing. About a month ago I got a birthday card from her. There was no return address but she had signed it."

"She sent you a birthday card?"

"Yes, is that significant?"

"I don't know yet." Mary gave Amie her number and hung up the phone. She felt a weight lift off her chest. She took a deep breath, finally feeling like she can breathe again.

"What is it?" Marshall asked her, looking over the top of his screen. "What happened?"

"She sent a birthday card."

Marshall stood up and walked over to her desk. "Who sent a birthday card?"

"Nancy. She sent her best friend a birthday card."

"When?"

"About a month ago."

"Was there a return address?"

"No, but there's a post mark."

"Of course. It would tell them where she was."

"That's why it took a month." Mary leaned back in her chair. Nancy had broken the tiniest rule and it had been the cause of her death. Jason probably had people going through Amie's mail daily. She got up and told Stan. He said he'd call Albuquerque PD.

"Go home for now," he told her. "You've been up for almost two straight days. Get some sleep."

"Stan is kicking us out," Mary told Marshall. "He told us to go home."

"You're going to ignore him aren't you?"

"I want to find the last connection. I want to know how they got a hold of her mail." Mary walked to her desk and the room started spinning.

"Woah!" Marshall grabbed Mary as she swayed. She lost her footing and slumped into Marshall. "I think it's time to go home." To be honest, he was barely staying on his own feet, but Mary had lost a witness. Losing a witness was the hardest thing to experience.

Mary nodded at him, righting herself. "I guess I can do research tomorrow." Marshall put his arm around her waist to steady her and guided her to the door. He took her keys when they reached her car and watched as she stared out the window. He knew that she wasn't asleep but she wasn't completely awake either. Now that she had figured out what happened, that she hadn't failed at her job, her subconscious didn't seem to feel the need to stay awake any longer. Her body was forcing her to sleep.

He knew Brandi and Jinx would be at her house so he headed back to his. It would be quiet and she wouldn't have to worry about anything. She could sleep as long as she needed without interruption.

She wandered over to the couch, flopping down on the soft cushions. Marshall sank down next to her. He was fairly certain that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. The couch was warm and soft, making him realize just how exhausted he was; it was nearing six in the evening.

"I told you it wasn't your fault," he said. The room was getting dark. Neither of them got up to turn the lights on.

"Not completely," she conceded. Marshall didn't have the strength to argue semantics with her. They were quiet again, the twilight settling over them. "What happened with Sarah?"

Marshall didn't answer at first, not sure if he wanted to tell her or what she would do with the information if he did. "She was really jealous of you."

"Why of me?"

"She thought that I was in love with you. She was over here and we were lying in bed and she asked for a key to my house."

"That's kind of a big deal." She slid down further on the couch, leaning into Marshall. Her voice was groggy. "What did you say to her?"

"I said yes. It was when I said that you had my spare key that she got upset." He could feel her laughing even though he couldn't hear it. "Thanks, Mary. I broke up with a girl that I really liked and you're laughing at me."

"No, I'm laughing at the time you gave me a key because I broke your window."

"Yeah, it was hilarious." He rolled his eyes, but laughed with her. Now, looking back on it, it was rather humorous. "She stormed out after that, claiming that I loved you and didn't know it."

"Yeah, you told me that part already." There was no malice in her voice as she said it but Marshall didn't laugh, just stared off into space looking forlorn. Mary sat up, turning towards him. She took his face in-between her hands and forced him to look at her. "Hey, Marshall, it's going to be fine. If she can't accept that you're friends with me, then she probably wasn't a girl you wanted to be dating anyway. You don't date a person because of their friends. You date them in spite of it."

"You would date me even if I was friends with Paris Hilton?" He flashed a lopsided grin at her.

"Well, it would be rough, but I bet I could get over it." She leaned in close like she was going to tell him a secret. "Believe it or not, I've met your friends and I love you anyway."

He shoved her slightly, causing her to fall against the back of the couch, laughing. "You're such a jerk," he told her. She laughed in a way that made it obvious that she'd had too little sleep.

"I really need to go to bed," she told him, leaning forward to get up. "But I'll see you tomorrow. Don't worry, Marshall, everything is going to work out. Sarah wasn't the one but you'll know when you find her." Mary leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Just as she was about to, Marshall absent mindedly turned his head. Warm lips pressed briefly against hers, surprising her.

"I… really didn't mean to do that," he told her. "I'm sorry. I really think we both need rest." He moved to get up but she stopped him. She leaned forward and kissed him again, longer this time. He let her, not being able to stop her, not _wanting _to stop her. This woman, this wonderful woman, who was his friend, his partner, the woman he had fallen for, was kissing him.

It took him a minute to regain his senses, to remember that this was Mary and that he didn't want to alienate her because of this. They were both tired, too tired to think clearly, and he wanted her to be sure that this was what she wanted the next time that they kissed. Will every ounce of will power he had, he pulled away from her just enough to end the kiss. He couldn't bring himself to stop touching her.

"Mary," he managed to force out. He tried again. "Mary." This time it came out a little more coherently. "We really need to get some sleep."

"I know it's been a few months, but I didn't think I had gotten _that_ bad at it." She said it as a joke, but Marshall knew better. She thought that he didn't want to kiss her, that he didn't _want_ her.

"That's not it," he said shaking his head.

"Oh." She was hurt, upset because she still thought Marshall was rejecting her. He shook his head, all of his usual eloquence gone. His body was so tired that trying to perform basic functions, like walking, were becoming difficult and Marshall was asking it to have a thoughtful conversation.

"That's not it either," he told her. She tried to pull away, but Marshall wouldn't let her go. "I liked it. I liked it a lot. I'm just too tired to give it the attention it needs."

He saw the corner of her mouth go up in an amused grin. "A lot, huh?"

"Don't let the compliment go to your head."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The grin was still on her face, getting goofier by the second.

"You're so tired you're grinning like an idiot. Can we please go to bed?" He stressed the word please, almost begging her to let him get some sleep. She laughed at his plea but nodded. She wasn't completely sure she'd be able to get up off the couch. Somehow she managed to pull herself to standing and walk towards Marshall's stairs. When she turned to walk up them, she noticed Marshall lying down on the couch.

"You're sleeping there?"

"I always sleep here when you stay over," he answered.

"Marshall, come upstairs and sleep in a bed. You have a queen. I'm sure there will be more than enough space for the two of us."

He raised just his head, enough to look at her standing at the other end of the hall. "You promise you'll actually let me sleep?"

Mary raised three fingers into the air. "Scout's honor."

"You were never a girl scout." He rolled to the side, using the arm of the couch to stand.

"You don't know that; I could have been."

"Being a scout would mean that you would have actually had to be nice to people." He shook his head. "I don't see it." Grasping the banister, he followed her up the stairs, slowly but surely.

"You have so little faith in my people skills."

"It's because I've seen your people skills, if you could even call them that."

It seemed to take years but eventually they both made it up the steps. Marshall handed Mary some of his pajamas and changed into some himself as she went into the bathroom. When she came out, he was already facedown on the bed, half asleep. Mary climbed in on the other side and shoved him.

"Move over, you're hogging the bed." He grunted and shoved back but moved over so that she had more room. Seconds later, they were both fast asleep, Marshall's arm draped over her.


	7. Chapter 7

New Chapter! Just some genuine Mary/Marshall time. As always, thanks to my beta, ladymars. Enjoy!

* * *

Mary woke to the smell of coffee. Marshall was already up, luring her out of bed with food by the smell of it. As delicious as it smelled, Mary stayed in bed, unable to move. Though her mind was deciding it was time to get up, her body was still yelling at her for everything she'd put it through. She glanced at the clock Marshall kept by the bed and it read seven in the morning. She'd slept for nearly thirteen hours. She burrowed further into the covers. She could smell Marshall on the sheets.

"Are you going to get up any time soon or are you planning to sleep all day?"

Mary peeked out over the top of the covers and saw Marshall standing there, leaning against the door frame, cup of coffee in his hand. Two of them, in fact. "The idea had some serious appeal to it."

He walked over and handed her one of the steaming cups in his hand. She sat up and took a sip, savoring the taste. Marshall always bought the good brand and served it to her with just one sugar. It was like heaven in a cup. He sat down on the bed facing her, sipping his own cup.

"Have you heard from Stan yet this morning?" she asked once about half the cup was gone. Her brain was starting to function normally again.

"Yeah," he said nodding. "He said to take the day off and if he saw either of us take a step into the building he'd have us escorted off the premises."

"He would do it too. Did he have anything useful to tell us?"

"They may have found out how, not necessarily who."

"And?"

"If Jason has someone in the post office, they could easily x-ray Amie's mail."

"Which is why Amie never suspected anything. The letter would never have been opened."

"Exactly. When this card came through, post marked from New Mexico, one of Jason's guys could have x-rayed it and voila! What should be on it but Nancy's signature? The guy who killed her is still denying that they have a guy in the postal system, but there aren't a lot of other ways Jason could have gotten the information."

Mary was silent as she processed the information. By sending a birthday card to her friend, Nancy had given her predators not only the state, but also the city that she was staying in. Postmarks even had part of the zip code on them. Granted, Albuquerque was a large city but it wasn't impossible to locate someone there. Nancy would have been a fairly easy target for Jason and his thugs. She set her cup on the night stand, balling her hands into fists.

Nancy had died because of a stupid mistake. She had done exactly what the Marshall Service had told her not to do. Now her funeral was being held next week in Maine. A mother had lost her daughter all over again because Nancy just had to send a best friend a birthday card.

"God damn it!" Mary screamed, hitting the bed with her fists. "God damn it, God damn it, God damn it!"

Marshall put his hand on her wrist to calm her. He could feel her shaking with fury. Nancy's death may not have been Mary's fault but Mary wouldn't stop blaming it on herself. He let her get all her anger out before offering her the cup of coffee again, hoping to help her even out her nerves. She took it gratefully.

"Feel better?" he asked, his voice low.

"I don't feel any worse."

"That's something, at least. Did you want some breakfast?"

"What did you make?"

"Pancakes and bacon."

"Sausage?"

"I think I could whip some up if that's what you wanted."

"Mind if I take a shower first?"

"Help yourself. Spare clothes are in the closet."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "You have clothes for me?"

"You're over here a lot," he shrugged. "I figured it was about time I owned some clothes you could wear, just in case."

"Doofus," but she was secretly grateful that he had chosen to do so. She hadn't been looking forward to putting on her dirty clothes or, worse yet, returning to her house in his.

Marshall made some food for her, and another serving for himself, while she was in the shower, including the rest of the sausage that was sitting in his fridge. When Mary came down again, she was in jeans and a dark blue tank top. Her feet were bare, causing her to be silent as she approached him. He handed her another cup of coffee and she grinned, happy to have more of her favorite beverage. She sat on one of his bar stools, watching him make breakfast.

"So, why is it exactly that you own a hairdryer?"

"Because sometimes you need it. Besides, did you know that seventy-five percent of men own hair products past shampoo and conditioner?"

"I guess I do now, whether I wanted to or not," she mumbled. "I still think it's a little odd that you own one."

"I think it's odd that you still keep a stuffed penguin under your pillow." The look on her face was worth the verbal, possibly physical, lashing he knew he was going to get. Clearly she thought that no one else knew about it.

"Who told you!"

"No one had to tell me, Mare. I was in there one day when you asked me to go look for your holster. I lifted up the pillow and there he was," Marshall placed a stack of pancakes with two sausage links and two bacon strips to accompany it, "all black and white with a little blue scarf."

"I can't believe you know about that." She stabbed her pancakes, taking a large bite. "I usually hide him so well." She said it through a mouth full of food.

"Not that day you didn't."

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

Marshall made and X over his heart with his finger. "Cross my heart." They were silent for a few seconds more before he asked, "So, what did you name it?"

She flung a piece of pancake at him, too quick for him to duck. "I am never telling you." She turned her attention to her food, ignoring her partner who sat across the kitchen island from her. Marshall watched her eat, thinking about everything that had happened last night. She hadn't even mentioned it yet; Marshall wasn't entirely certain that she would. Mary wasn't the type of person to sit and have a heart to heart with you so Marshall didn't expect it.

Come to think of it, he wasn't even one-hundred percent sure she remembered. She had been pretty tired. Marshall shook his head; no, that wasn't it. He knew she remembered. After all, she had initiated the kiss, not him. The trick was going to be getting her to talk to him about it, to explain to him why she'd done it and what it meant. He may be in love with her but a kiss didn't mean she reciprocated his feelings.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Marshall jumped slightly. He hadn't been expecting her to say anything. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She looked up, dropping her fork on a now finished plate of pancakes. She picked up a strip of bacon and bit off the end. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You don't usually scrutinize people while they're eating."

"I was thinking and you just happen to be in the way of my line of sight. Maybe if you moved your big head I could see the fridge, my real target of scrutiny."

"I don't want to know what you do with your fridge if you look at it like that." She finished the last of her food and then leaned over to steal some of Marshall's. He let her, partly because he wasn't hungry but more because it was useless to fight her.

"Maybe I just like it better than you. That's a good fridge."

"Yeah," she contradicted, wicked smile on her face, "but can it do this?" She leaned all the way across, planting her lips firmly on his. He could taste the maple syrup on her lips. He moved his hands to her neck, letting himself enjoy it this time. Now that he wasn't exhausted, it was much better. He could pay attention to her. Mary broke the kiss, sitting back down, but Marshall followed, not ready to stop just yet. He kissed her again until his back started complaining about how long he had been leaning over the table.

"What are we supposed to do if we're not allowed to work?"

Typical Mary, just move on as if nothing had happened, as if it were completely normal for two partners to start making out in the middle of the kitchen. Marshall finished the remnants of his breakfast and shrugged. "You could get some of that house work done," he suggested. Mary made a face that crossed between disgusted and laziness.

"I would probably break the things that need fixing anyway."

"You still haven't fixed the guest bathroom toilet, have you."

"The sink isn't draining now either."

"You couldn't call a plumber?"

"They over charge."

"And you break things." He deposited their plates in the sink and then he leaned against the counter, looking at her. "Let me get dressed and I'll come fix it."

"You're not just fixing this because I kissed you are you?" she teased.

"No," he said, walking down the hall.

"Am I going to have to give you sexual favors for jobs bigger than plugged drains?" she called after him.

"Yes, but that was my requirement even before you kissed me," he called back.

* * *

"Hand me the wrench," Marshall told her. He was in her bathroom, on his back, fiddling with the pipes under the sink. Mary was supervising and handing him tools so he wouldn't have to get up. She placed the heavy wrench in his outstretched hand. The pipe had squirted at him twice, getting his grey t-shirt wet. She could only see him from about the ribcage down, the rest was hidden in the cabinets below her sink. He had hung a light inside them so he could see what he was doing. Mary could see the glow from it.

The wrench appeared again. Mary took it and replaced it with the next tool that Marshall asked for. She heard some more banging. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"I took a few plumbing classes in college."

"Of course you did. Who needs World History when you can take Plumbing 101?"

"It's proving to be a whole lot more useful right now that World History."

She kicked his cowboy boots and leaned against the door frame. "What exactly are you doing?" She took the opportunity to really look at Marshall without him noticing that she was doing it. If he ever saw her checking him out, she would never live it down. He was a lot more fit than she had expected him to be, but she couldn't exactly say she was surprised. Marshall was the kind of person who probably worked out so that, if need be, he would win if he had to chase someone down. Mary didn't bother with things like the gym. She was constantly moving. Running at a gym would just be redundant and, not to mention, time consuming.

"I'm loosening your pipe to check the trap."

"Wow, one sentence and I'm already bored."

She heard a groan and then watched Marshall push himself out from under her sink. "You could at least pretend to be grateful that I just fixed your sink."

"You fixed it?"

He stood up and turned on the tap. The water drained easily out of the sink, all clogs missing. "I fixed your sink," he said triumphantly.

"It doesn't even make that sputtering noise anymore."

"Because I fixed that too."

"I've acquired my very own handy man."

"Yeah, but I charge exorbitant prices."

"What could be worse than the $650 it cost me the last time I had to call a plumber?"

"Lunch."

"You drive a hard bargain, but I'm sure I can manage something." They walked towards the kitchen, Marshall's stomach grumbling.

"$650? Who did you ask to fix your plumbing, the Pope?"

"Nah, he probably would have done it for free."

"Still, it seems a bit steep." It also explained why she had put up with a broken bathroom for two months instead of just calling someone to come fix it. He wouldn't want to cough up $650 for a fix either, though, knowing Mary, they probably deserved the money. She wasn't exactly an easy woman to work for.

She made him a turkey sandwich and handed him a beer. She sat across from the table, eating her own food. Brandi and Jinx had left hours ago to go shopping for wedding flowers. Mary was glad to have an excuse to stay at home. She glanced at the clock and noticed that it was already two in the afternoon. Marshall had been at her sink longer than she thought. She wondered what else she could get him to fix since he was in such a giving mood.

The other part of her didn't want to ask because she was afraid that everything was already changing between Marshall and her. When she had kissed him last night it was because she hadn't really been thinking. Between how tired she was, the stress she had been under and everything else that had been going on, she had just done it and not let herself think. The reasons had been almost identical this morning. It had been a long two days and for a second, just one second, she wanted to pretend there was someone's shoulder she could metaphorically cry on.

"Why are you fixing all of my stuff?"

Marshall looked up from his food, confused. "Because you asked me to," he said slowly.

"Why have you never done it before now?"

"Because you would yell at me if I went near anything. You were pretty hell bent and determined to get the FBI to clean up the house. Believe me, it was killing me inside not to clean it."

"So this isn't because… well you know."

"Because you kissed me?" He grinned like an idiot and she rolled her eyes at him. "Nope, had nothing to do with it. If you remember, I asked you two months ago when it broke if you wanted me fix it. You said no."

She hadn't remembered, actually, but now that he mentioned it, she vaguely remembered bitching at him about shitty pipes and him offering to fix it. "Well, since you're fixing everything else-"

"You want me to fix the hum in your fridge."

"Yes! It has been driving me crazy and the electrician wanted a hundred bucks just to come out here."

He finished the last of his sandwich, popping it into his mouth. "Ok, but if I fix it, we get to go to a restaurant of my choice tonight."

"Marshall, you always choose Greek. I HATE Grecian food."

"I'll choose something different, but you have to let me pay."

"Wait, you're fixing my fridge and you're paying for dinner? What's the catch?"

"No catch," he said, standing up and walking over to her fridge. He pressed his ear against the doors, trying to hear exactly where the noise was coming from. "You just have to let me pick the place."

She eyed him suspiciously but couldn't figure out what he wasn't telling her. He opened the fridge, moving around the little food that she contained in it. "Fine," she agreed, "but if it's anything that requires more than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, I'm not going."

"Fair enough." He turned a dial and the noise stopped.

"You knew how to fix it already, didn't you?"

"It's possible."

"Jerk."


	8. Chapter 8

This is my favorite chapter, so I hope that everyone enjoys it. Thanks so much to my Beta, Ladymars. She makes sure that I don't make silly, silly mistakes!

* * *

Marshall couldn't believe he had convinced her to go on a date. Ok, _she_ didn't know it was a date, so maybe it didn't count, but he had still managed to get her to agree. It also wasn't going to be anything too fancy, not that he would have chosen that if he could. No, taking Mary somewhere upscale and romantic might tip her off that she was dating someone. If she realized that before she was ready, she would go running in the other direction.

He looked at himself in the mirror again, making sure he looked good without looking too dressed up. The outfit wasn't much different than what he wore to work: jeans, collared shirt with the collar open, and a jacket. He had taken a shower and styled his hair, but no more than usual. He was sure he looked about the same that he did every other day of the week. But the shirt color made his eyes look bluer and the coat he wore was one of the few he had had tailored. He had even polished his boots. Mary wouldn't think he was dressed any differently than usual, but he still managed to look good.

He was just about to grab his keys to go get Mary when the doorbell rang. Mary stood at his door, jeans and a t-shirt, just like she promised. The only difference was her hair was pulled back, half up in a ponytail.

"Did you dress up just for me?" he teased her. She made a face at him.

"Are you ready to go or what?"

"I'm driving."

"What for?"

"Because I know where we're going and you don't."

"You could tell me."

Marshall locked his front door and headed towards his car. "I could but I'm not going to."

She waited by the door, hands on her hips. Marshall stood by his car, waiting for her to give in. Mary was stubborn but she usually knew when to give up. She threw her hands up and stalked to the car.

"Fine! But this is only because I get free food."

They were quiet on the drive there. Mary was just trying to be difficult, he knew. She was mad that he refused to tell her but he hoped she would get over it. He pulled into what essentially looked like a dirt parking lot. Other cars were lined up around them and there was a huge screen at the front of the lot. Mary looked at him like he had really lost it this time.

"You're taking me to a _drive in movie_?"

"You said that I could go anywhere. I wanted entertainment while I ate." He looked at her, crooked smile on his face. "Not that your table manners aren't their own form of entertainment."

"The promise of food is only going to allow you to get away with so much. And I was expecting real dinner. What do they serve at the drive in other than popcorn?"

"Not much," he conceded. "Which is why…" He reached behind her seat and pulled out a bag of Chinese food.

"Mushu Pork?"

"An entire pint just for you."

"Good. I can forgive you for this stupid movie idea." She dug through the bag, pulling out all the food she wanted. After half the bag was missing, Marshall dug out his portion of food. He handed Mary chopsticks and they watch the movie while they ate. Marshall had been prepared. The movie was an action flick: lots of things blowing up but not a lot in the way of a plot line. Mary propped her feet up on the dashboard, eating straight from the carton. She'd smile at the funny parts and seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself. As the credits were rolling, she started sifting through the bags.

"Where are the fortune cookies?"

Marshall grabbed two from his pocket and handed one to her. They tore open the packages and then split their cookies in half. "You first," she told him.

"'Life can be dangerous; tread carefully.'"

"That's kind of lame. 'Today, you will have new and exciting adventures.'"

Marshall choked on his Lo Mein he was laughing so hard. It took him a few minutes to be able to compose himself enough to breathe normally. "_That's_ a good fortune."

"I didn't think it was that great. Pretty generic for a fortune." She raised an eyebrow slightly and Marshall realized she didn't understand why it was so funny.

"Never mind." The weird look didn't stop, but, after a minute, she turned back to her food. Marshall put the car in gear and drove back to his house where Mary's car was waiting.

* * *

She said goodnight, telling him she'd see him at work the next day and drove home. Brandi was sitting at the island, books open in front of her.

"Test tomorrow, Squish?"

"Yup. In a subject I hate. If I do well on this test, though, I'll be good for the semester."

Mary sat down across from her, looking at all of the math problems. "Why do you need to take advanced statistics for a fashion major?"

"Because it's helpful when trying to learn about your competitors and the market." Brandi looked up from the notebook that she was scribbling in. "Where were you tonight anyway?"

"Drive-in movie."

Brandi snorted, laughing at her older sister. "You went to a drive in movie? Willingly?"

"Not completely. I was bribed by Marshall with free food."

"You went on a date with Marshall?"

"What? No, we just went to see a movie and ate some Chinese."

"Dinner and a movie? Sounds like a date to me-e."

"I did not go on a… that sneaky little bastard."

"Finally figured out it was a date?" Brandi asked as she wrote notes down.

"How did I miss that?"

"You're kind of oblivious sometimes, Mary."

"Maybe you can answer something for me. Marshall started laughing hysterically after I read him my fortune."

"What did it say?"

Mary pulled the piece of paper out of her pocket and read it to her sister, who was holding her sides she was laughing so hard. Mary was still baffled as to why it was funny.

"Oh, come on, you honestly don't know?" Brandi asked her.

"Would I be asking you if I knew?"

"Don't you know that you're supposed to add 'in bed' to every fortune cookie?"

Mary scrutinized the paper again and couldn't help but smile. If that's what Marshall was thinking, it was a wonder he contained himself as much as he did. "We've gotten Chinese food a million times and he's never laughed before."

Brandi just shrugged and began to close her text books. "Maybe he was laughing, just not out loud. Besides, things are just slightly different between you two now."

"What do you mean?"

"You kissed him right? You guys are like, dating?"

"How the hell did you know we kissed?"

"Mary, I'm not stupid. I've never seen you be so tolerable in my life, but you're not quite happy enough to have gotten laid. Either you won the lottery or you kissed Marshall."

"Wow, that's impressive."

"I know. It's a gift." She put all of her books in a pile and hefted them into her arms. "Goodnight, Mary."

Mary gave her a half-hearted wave and continued to look at the fortune in her hand. Brandi was right; things were different between Marshall and her. Not that it was a bad different, just not the same relationship that they had. She had changed that relationship forever and she only hoped that it was for the better. He had laughed at the fortune but what that meant was a little bit of a mystery to her. Did he like the idea? Mary closed her eyes and rubbed them. It was too much for her to think about tonight. In the morning she would make the attempt to figure out what she had really done by kissing Marshall.

* * *

There was a bouquet on her desk. Of course, it wasn't the typical bouquet. Most people didn't get bunches of fortune cookies. She stood in front of her desk, hands on her hips before looking over at Marshall. He shrugged like he had no idea what it was but Mary knew better. He had done it. She reached forward and plucked one of the cookies off of its stem. Cracking it open she read, "Tonight, you life will be shaken up, in bed." She blinked a couple of times before she realized that she wasn't imagining the 'in bed,' it was actually printed on the paper. She grabbed another one. "Things will soon get very hard, in bed." Every single one had a fortune that wasn't inappropriate until the 'in bed' was added onto it. When she had opened all of the cookies, she opened the card. "I had fun last night in… well, you get the idea. –Marshall."

She spent the morning taping the small papers to her desk. They were on her monitor, her desk calendar, file cabinets. You couldn't look at Mary's desk without seeing something inappropriate. At random points during the day, she would chuckle and you would know she found one she hadn't read in awhile.

Stan and Eleanor tried all day to figure out who had sent it, but they never got her to tell. Marshall was also tight-lipped. Dating between partners wasn't exactly encouraged. It was pretty much forbidden, but Mary was worth the risk. His job wasn't really worth it without her around anyway.

Marshall went to lunch and when he came back, there was a note tucked under his desk calendar. He slid it out when no one was looking and flipped open the folded paper. "My house is empty for the weekend. We should do dinner, in… well, we'll figure that out when you get there. –Mary." Marshall fought to keep his face impassive. A sexually aggressive Mary was something he knew existed but had never dealt with first hand. It had definitely never been directed at him.

Marshall opened the same drawer that Mary had found the engagement ring, pulling the folders forward and slipping the note into the furthest folder back. He wore a smirk on his the rest of the day as Mary antagonized him with ridiculous sexual glances. At one point she wiggled her eyebrows at him. Later on she checked him out and gave him the nod. Marshall wasn't sure whether he should laugh or drag her back to his house. He settled for chuckling to himself. If he made too much noise, Eleanor would want to know what was so funny. Mary had managed her glances when no one else was watching.

She left before he did, giving Stan some excuse about her sister. Marshall knew it was bull. She had already told him that no one was going to be around. He wondered what she was planning. Knowing Mary, she was going to do something to retaliate for the bouquet of fortune cookies that he sent her.

* * *

"Mary?" he called as he let himself into her house. "Are you here?"

"In here!" came the answer. Marshall made his way into the kitchen to see smoke and Mary trying to stir something. Seconds later the smoke alarm went off, a piercing noise in Marshall's ears. Mary took whatever she was burning off the stove. Marshall walked to her smoke alarm, reaching up and pressing the off button.

"What are you trying to do, Mare, burn down your house?" He opened her window, hoping to air out some of the smoke.

"Worse, trying to cook." She dumped a black lump in her sink and turned on the hot water. Steam rose up from the jumbled mess that Marshall could only assume was once something edible.

"Why? Did you know that kitchen fires are one of the first causes of home fires?" He took the pan from her hands and rinsed it out in the sink. He took some rice out of her cabinet and the few vegetables she had in her fridge. "Do you have any chicken?"

"I might have some beef." She pushed him out of the way, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out some pork.

"Mary, that's not beef."

"It's what I have."

Marshall shrugged and took it from her, cutting it up and putting it in a separate pan than the one the vegetables and rice were simmering in. Mary sat at the island in her kitchen, staying out of his way as he skillfully cooked, taking spices out of her cabinet that she wasn't aware that she even had. She got the feeling that, after the numerous times not having anything he could cook with, Marshall had stocked her cupboards without her knowing. She pulled two beers out of her fridge.

"The white wine," Marshall said to her without turning around.

"Marshall, I don't _have_ any white wine."

"Yes you do; check the back of your fridge."

Mary could smell everything cooking. The smell was almost intoxicating and smelled about a hundred times better than the mess she had been trying to put together. She pushed aside a few beers, a bottle of OJ and an expired carton of milk. Sure enough, there was a bottle of Riesling sitting in the back of her fridge. She pulled it out, along with two wine glasses, and poured both of them a glass. She pulled out plates and silverware next, needing to feel helpful. A few minutes later, Marshall was dividing the food onto their plates.

"How is it that I cook for a half hour and all I get is a black lump, but when you cook for fifteen, you get an amazing meal?" She stabbed her food, taking a huge bite. She savored the flavors, letting the delicious tastes permeate her mouth.

"I'm a ninja. So, why exactly were you trying to cook?" he asked her, taking a sip of the wine. It complimented the food perfectly, just like he knew it would. Mary just shrugged, taking another bite.

"I was hungry."

"So you decided to actually try and cook?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you."

"I'm not allowed to cook? How do you think I eat, Marshall?"

"Take out or you finagle me into cooking for you."

She thought about it a minute and realized he was right. There wasn't a whole lot of cooking that happened in her life. "Well, I thought maybe it was about time I learned."

Marshall just stared at her.

"What?"

"You were trying to cook for me," he said, stunned. "You were actually trying to cook for me."

"I was not. I was just trying to cook period, doofus."

"Ok," but the smirk on his face told her that he didn't believe a word that was coming out of her mouth.

Their night was no different than any other. They watched TV, teased each other, ate some more, teased each other, drank, teased each other. It was pretty typical of their time together. Before he knew it, Marshall saw that the clock read eleven.

"I should go."

"What for?" She flipped off the TV and propped her feet up on the coffee table.

"It's late and I have work tomorrow. So do you."

"You're no fun."

Marshall stood up and stretched, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch. "I know but one of us has to be the serious, goal-oriented one."

"You're actually leaving?" She sat up, taking her feet off the table.

"Yeah, I'm actually leaving." He searched his pockets looking for keys and found them in his left one.

"I just thought that you might want to stay."

Marshall smiled inwardly. It was nice to know that Mary was just as human as the rest of the world. She was just as vulnerable, just better at hiding it than most. He leaned down and kissed her as long as she would allow.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he murmured to her. He kissed her one last time, not being able to resist, before leaving for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine! I think that I only have about six chapters after this (it depends on how I want to split them up and what I send to my beta, ect.) Just to give you guys some sort of estimation on how much longer it will be. Thanks for all your comments and thanks to my beta, ladymars.

* * *

"Yes, we can do that. The remains can be transported to the mortuary of your choice. All transportation costs will be covered by the Marshall Service." Mary leaned back in her chair, talking into her phone like she had been for the past two hours. Nancy's mother, Anita, had a lot of questions and Mary wanted to make sure she knew everything. She felt like it was the least she could do.

Finally, after working everything out, she hung up the phone. She rested her elbows on her desk, hiding her face in her hands.

"How did it go with Nancy's mother?" he asked from his desk. He glanced over to her as he spoke but didn't stop what he was doing.

"I was on the phone pushing three hours. How do you think it went?"

"Just because it was long doesn't mean that it went terribly. It took three days to write the constitution."

"It went about as well as a 'hey, where would you like us to ship your daughter' conversation could go." She wrote furiously in a file, hoping that all of her anger would dissipate with the completion of the paperwork. Marshall left her alone knowing that there wasn't anything that she wanted to hear right now. Mary had to let off steam before she would actually volunteer information. His only solution to the problem was suggesting lunch a half hour later.

"I'm not hungry," she insisted. Marshall wasn't fooled.

"You're always hungry. C'mon, I'm paying."

"You can't pay every time I'm in a bad mood."

"I don't. If I did that, I would have been broke a long time ago. I'm hungry and I know you are too but are too stubborn to leave. If I don't give you some sort of incentive, I'd never get you to leave this office."

She moaned and groaned, but followed him despite her complaints. He didn't take her anywhere fancy. Mary ate, but played with her food more than she swallowed it.

"Will you please tell me what you're thinking? It's driving me crazy." Marshall tapped his fork on his plate until, finally, Mary put her hand over his, forcing him to stop.

"Anita wants me to go to the funeral."

"Nancy's funeral?"

"No, the funeral of that other dead daughter she has."

"I feel as if this might be an inappropriate time for your sarcasm." He had finished his own food and reached over to snatch her fries. She didn't even try and stop him, worrying him more. "You're not _going_ are you?"

Mary didn't answer and Marshall cursed under his breath. "Mare, you can't go."

"Why not? I was the last person to see her daughter alive. I'm the only one who can tell her anything about the past year of her daughter's life."

"It's not your responsibility to do that." Her look told him that he wasn't getting anywhere. "You're going anyway."

"I have to do something."

"When do we leave?"

"We? We aren't going anywhere; I'm going to Maine in a week."

"No, _we're_ going to Maine in a week."

"You'll have to use some vacation time."

"I'm not letting you go alone. You're beating yourself up enough as it is and going to this funeral is only going to make it worse." He pushed aside his plate and leaned forward, his hands crossed on the table. "If I'm not there to remind you it wasn't your fault, and that you're still an amazing Marshal, then you're going to be a mess when you get back."

"I'm a mess anyway."

"So imagine what you'd be like if I wasn't around."

"We leave on Friday," she finally conceded.

"As long as we go first class. I am not sitting in coach if I don't have to."

They finished their meal and headed back to the office. Marshall booked them a flight while Mary handled the final arrangements for Nancy's body. Marshall brought her coffee while she finalized all their plans. When they went back to Marshall's house that night, Mary was exhausted. She lay down on the couch.

"Do you want anything?" Marshall asked her. He leaned on the back of the couch, looking down on her.

"A new life? To stop having a conscious?"

"How about a beer?"

"I guess, if that's my only option."

Marshall retrieved her drink and left it on the coffee table. He had a feeling she didn't really want it anyway. He moved to sit down and Mary lifted her feet so he could, then put them back down in his lap.

"You should go to bed."

"I should stop being so nice."

"I could have told you that. But, it's a known fact that, given the choice, most people would be the Good Samaritan."

She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. "What the hell are you talking about? Nobody knows that."

"Just because you don't know it doesn't mean that other people don't."

"I'm going to take a poll," she answered sleepily. "Of people we don't know so that they don't side with you."

"You should go to bed. We have a long week ahead of us."

She hated when he was right, and hated giving in even more, but the day had been too long to be the usual pain in the ass she was. She stood up to head upstairs. She knew he wouldn't move so when she passed him so she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs.

* * *

When Marshall woke up he felt something warm by his side. He rolled over and barely recognized the mess of blond hair next to him as his partner. He couldn't seen any part of her other that the light tresses that spilled out from under his comforter. He looked over his shoulder, glancing at the clock on his night stand. It was seven-thirty, around the time for him to get up and go to work. He stayed in the bed, gently shaking the form next to him.

There was an incoherent mumble from under the covers. He did it again. This time a mumble with a hand, swatting in his general direction. When he did it a final time, he got an actual coherent answer.

"Marshall, leave me the hell alone."

"It lives."

"It's going to kick your ass if you keep poking me." She pulled the blanket down, exposing her head. "What's so urgent that you have to wake me up anyway?"

"It's seven-thirty on a week day."

"Haven't you ever heard of being late?" she grumbled.

"Nope, never." He smiled at her, receiving a glare for his efforts.

"I can't believe you're a morning person."

"I can't believe you're surprised. Besides, most people who live in the working world wake anywhere from five to seven am. We're up later than the rest of humanity."

Mary's response was to pull the blanket over her ahead again. Marshall just smiled and got up to shower. He knew that she wouldn't leave that bed without some sort of incentive.

"Hey!" she complained.

"What?"

"The bed is cold!"

"You're in my cow PJ pants; how could you possibly be cold?"

"You took all the heat with you, doofus." Despite her words, she moved into the spot he just occupied. He took his shower, heading downstairs to make some coffee. Not long after, he heard the shower start again and then feet slowly stomping down the stairs.

"I wasn't sure that you'd get up all on your own," he said, cracking some eggs into a skillet. "I thought I'd have to get a crow bar."

"The fact that you set your alarm to go off every five minutes and I couldn't figure out how to turn it off is the only reason you're seeing me right now." She sat down at the table as Marshall plopped two eggs and a cup of coffee in front of her. "A girl could get used to this," she said as she dug into her food.

"You say that like I haven't been cooking meals for you for the past three years." He sat down across from her, food in front of him. Breakfast was becoming a habit for them and Marshall was really starting to like the tradition. "Our flight is at two pm tomorrow. We can take my car."

"No way; I'm driving."

"Mary, I'm not sure your Probe will make it to the airport."

"God, it's not that bad."

"Well, at the very least we know it won't get stolen while we're gone." He tried stealing some of her eggs but she swatted him away with her fork. "I'm driving," he reiterated.

"Fine, but I get the window seat on the plane."

* * *

They left from work the next day, their bags already packed and in the back of Marshall's car. Mary's knee was bouncing, her nervous energy no longer contained.

"Can I just say again that I think this is a bad idea?" Marshall told her.

"You can say it. That doesn't mean I'm going to listen." Her left knee bounced now instead of her right. Marshall put his hand on her leg, causing the unconscious twitch to stop.

"Stop worrying so much."

The flight was on time and, by two in the afternoon, they were in the air. Mary's nervous energy hadn't dissipated yet. She kept glancing out the window, to the stewardess and then back to the window.

"God damn, how long does it take them to hand out drinks?"

Marshall didn't even look up from his magazine. "Contrary to your belief, there's a system to handing out the drinks that doesn't include giving them to you first."

"There's a system? Why do they need a system? Step one, ask if the person wants the drink. Step two, pour it. What, do they write that down on the inside of their carts?"

"Actually, they go from back to front so that they end at the galley. Unless you're in coach and then they go front to back."

"I can't believe that you know shit like that."

"Ma'am, would you like something to drink?" the stewardess asked, coming up on Marshall's left.

"A glass of scotch on the rocks would be great."

"You're going to drink before a funeral?" Marshall raised an eyebrow

"They funeral is not until tomorrow. I can drink all I want today." She took the cup from the stewardess and swallowed a large mouthful.

"So you're going to be hung-over. I can completely see how that's a better idea."

"Shut up."

They had a layover in Boston, giving them a break from their ten hour trip. Marshall flipped through some books in one of the stands, keeping one eye on the words in front of him and the other on Mary, who was looking at the souvenirs. She picked up a shot glass in her hand, turning it over with a bewildered look on her face. She turned towards Marshall, holding out the bright orange item with "Boston" emblazoned across the front.

"Who the hell would buy this shit? I mean, personally, I don't want the city I've been to written across my cups." She looked up at a mannequin with a pink shirt on, "Boston" also written across it. "Or on my chest for that matter." The woman next to her put down the shirt she was looking at and walked away.

"Impressive. Now you're offending people you don't know without any effort." Marshall took the glass from her hand, putting it back with the other neon colored shot glasses. "Let's try not to get kicked out of the airport before our flight."

"How much longer until it gets here?"

"Assuming it's on time," he looked at his watch, "about another hour."

"What are we supposed to do until then? Continue to look at this crappy merchandise until our eyes bleed?" She reached for a green hat but Marshall stopped her and led her out of the small shop.

"Come on; I'll buy you a drink."

"You're going to get me drunk before a funeral?"

"The funeral isn't until tomorrow," he reminded her.

"So I'm going to be hung over for a funeral. That's a lot better."

"Shut up."


	10. Chapter 10

New chapter! It took a little longer but my beta had a lot to do this time around. Hope that you enjoy the newest chapter!

* * *

It was late when they finally arrived in Maine and Mary had gone eerily quiet. Marshall grabbed their bags off the carousal. They picked up the rental and, after tossing the luggage in the back, Marshall drove them to the hotel.

"Are you doing ok over there?" he asked her.

"How am I supposed to explain to her mother what happened? How am I supposed to tell her that her daughter died contacting an old friend?"

"The same way that you've told a dozen other parents how their kid died."

"The rest of them weren't this woman. There's just something about her that makes this..." Mary shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "I don't understand it."

"Understand what? Nancy disobeyed the rules. She contacted someone from her past and she got caught."

"But how am I supposed to tell her mother that Nancy risked her safety for her childhood friend and not for her own mother?"

Marshall wasn't expecting the question. Mary was right; why had Nancy risked it all for a birthday card to her friend but not to contact her mother? There was so much about the case that just didn't make sense and there was nothing that they could explain to Anita.

"Why am I doing this?"

Marshall raised an eyebrow but answered her anyway. "Because, despite how much you like to pretend you're tough, deep down you're just a big marshmallow."

"I am not… alright maybe a little."

"You care about your witnesses, Mare. You swore to protect them. For you, that extends past their deaths. It extends to their families." He pulled into their hotel and turned the car off. "We can go home if you want."

"You would seriously go home right now after flying for ten hours to get here?" She watched him shrug but his face didn't change. "Wow, you're serious. You would actually do that." She took a deep breath. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I have to do this."

Marshall didn't answer, just got out of the car. They checked into the hotel and dragged their bags up the stairs. Mary walked into the room first. A king size bed stared back at her. She smirked, raising her eyebrow at Marshall.

"Hoping to get lucky?"

Marshall made a face at her. "It was the only one that they had. Maybe if someone had planned a little better, we'd have two beds. The couch is a pull out." He put his duffle bag on the dresser. "I'll even let you choose which bed you want."

"You should already know that I'm taking the bigger one. Better pillows."

"Are you planning to shower tonight or am I going to have to fight you for it in the morning?"

"Yeah, actually, I think a shower would be great right now." She grabbed her pajamas out of her bag and slipped into the bathroom. She ran the water hot, warming all of her tired muscles. She felt tired everywhere. It took a supreme effort just to move, to concentrate. She hoped that the funeral tomorrow was going to be relatively uneventful; Mary wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle seeing Anita, telling her how she had failed to protect her daughter, failed to make the rules clear. How do you tell a parent that it was your fault their child had died?

When she came out, Marshall was already on the couch, in his pajamas, reading a book. Mary flopped down on the bed, stomach first, stretching across the comforter. Her hair was still wet and she moved it so it wouldn't get her shirt wet.

"You could at least get a towel so you don't get the pillows wet," Marshall said to her, eyes still on his book.

"You could wear a pair of pajama pants that indicate you're a full grown man and not a five year old boy."

Marshall looked at his pants and then up at her. "What's wrong with robots?"

"Are you going to be reading much longer?" It was already midnight and the funeral was around nine the next morning. Traveling had taken more out of her than she had realized. Then again, she wasn't sure traveling was the only reason that she was tired.

Marshall put his book aside and leaned over to take one of her pillows. "We should have asked for extras," he commented.

"What for?"

"Because you always hog them."

"It's retribution for your bed hogging."

"Maybe I wouldn't hog the bed if you didn't constantly steal my covers."

"I don't steal covers," she insisted. "You just don't give me enough of them so I have to coerce you to share."

"You couldn't coerce a thing of Jell-O to jiggle." He moved to the bed and pushed her. "Move over."

"See? Already you're hogging the bed." She moved over anyway, letting him in the bed. She grabbed the covers, moving them over to her side.

"See? You're already hogging the covers."

"Whatever," she mumbled, so tired that she was mostly asleep.

"Why do you need so many covers? I promise I'll keep you warm."

"Ugh," she groaned. "If I wasn't so tired I would kick your ass for a comment that corny. How long have you been waiting to drop that bomb on me?"

"About a week." He was grinning ear to ear.

"Doofus."

* * *

She wore a black pantsuit, Marshall in a black suit himself. He even had black boots for the occasion. She pulled her hair out of her face, putting it in a ponytail holder. She put on low, thick heels. If she was going to be trucking her way through a cemetery she didn't want her shoes sinking into the ground.

Mary drove so that she would have something else to concentrate on. Marshall picked the station, putting some classic rock on. Mary easily glided in and out of lanes, following the automated voice of the GPS. Left turn, in five miles.

It was a beautiful church. Mary didn't know what the denomination was but that didn't take away from its elegant lines and crisp white exterior. It wasn't an ostentatious building and subtly striking.

The ceremony was simple, consisting mostly of family members talking about Nancy; how they knew her and how she would be missed. The two Marshals sat in the back, letting the family and close friends grieve for the person they had lost.

The cemetery was down the street from the church. The pastor said a few words before the casket was lowered into the ground. Nancy had a gray, shiny headstone, Maria Louis Bishop etched into the front.

"She didn't deserve this," Mary whispered to Marshall even though most of the mourners had left already. "She was just trying to do what was right. She was just a girl who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"She would have been safe in witness protection if she followed the rules."

"A person shouldn't have to follow rules like that, Marshall. People should be able to live their lives without constantly worrying if they accidentally gave themselves away with a sentences or a word. They shouldn't panic when they accidentally refer to a name or place from their past, wondering if they just gave away their position. They should be able to write to their childhood friends without dying."

Marshall didn't say anything. She was right but that didn't change the situation. There were a lot of things in life that shouldn't happen, yet they did and the only way that life continued was to deal with them. Those weren't the things Mary needed to hear, though. Right now, Mary just needed to rant, to scream, to wonder if she had done something differently if she could've prevented this. He told her the one thing he knew she needed to hear, needed to be reminded of.

"It wasn't your fault."

"You keep saying that."

"Because you keep not believing me." He took her by the shoulders, forcing her to tear her eyes away from the headstone and look at Marshall. "You keep thinking that somehow you screwed up. You did everything that you could for that girl. I know you think it's unfair, that you think you should have done something more. You are a great Marshal. Don't ever forget that."

"We better get going," she told him, shrugging his grip lose. "Anita is going to be expecting us at the shindig she's hosting."

"Shindig?"

"I felt party would be inappropriate."

"And shindig is better?" he asked, walking towards the car.

"What the hell am I supposed to call it?"

"How about gathering?"

She opened the driver side door, scoffing. "Maybe if I was from 16th century Britain."

"Good vocabulary does not indicate antiquity."

"Maybe not, but the word 'antiquity' does."

* * *

"Anita?"

A small woman with olive skin and dark hair turned around to face Mary. "Hello, were you a friend of my daughter's?"

Mary could see her eyes were red, but, other than that small sign of grief, Anita was holding it together well. It almost made Mary's job worse. "Sort of. I'm Mary Shannon. We spoke on the phone."

Recognition flashed in Anita's eyes at the name. "Of course, Ms. Shannon. Please, let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"Please, call me Mary."

"Mary." Anita led them to an office on the first floor. Anita invited her to sit on the couch. "May I ask, why was my daughter in Albuquerque? How is it that you know her?"

"Maria was in the witness protection program. She had witnessed a violent murder against a New Jersey mob boss, who happened to be in Maine at the time. She was brave enough to come forward and testify against him. His trial is going on as we speak."

Anita was silent for a minute, tears streaming down her face. It was the first time that Mary had seen the woman lose her composure.

"I am so sorry," she said wiping her eyes. "I shouldn't be crying in front of you."

"You lost your daughter. I think more than a little crying is warranted. I wish I didn't have to bring you the news of her death," Mary told her softly.

"Some part of me knew that I would never see her again. However, I never expected this. What happened to her?"

"A little over a month ago, Maria wrote to her best friend. She didn't put a return address on it but we believe that they were able to find her from the postmark. We're fairly certain it was the man she was testifying against or one of his associates."

Anita just nodded, taking a minute to absorb all the information. "Will this man be convicted?"

"I can't say for sure but I believe so. And I believe that he never would have been if not for your daughter's testimony."

Anita took Mary's hand, squeezing it. "Thank you. Thank you for telling my how brave my daughter was. Thank you for taking the time to come here and talk to me."

"Maria, and you, deserved nothing less."

They both left the study and Mary found Marshall. They stayed for awhile, mingling with people they didn't know, but they didn't want to be rude to Anita. Finally, Mary retreated to the car, needing to be away from everything. Marshall followed her, knowing she didn't really want to be alone.

"She thanked me," Mary told him, leaning with her back against the car and pulling her jacket around her. It was freezing in Maine and the wind was picking up. "She thanked me for telling her that her daughter was dead." She looked at him, sorrow and anger teeming beneath her surface. "She thanked me for not doing my job."

"You did your job. You've gone above and beyond what is required of you for your job, Mare. You always have."

"She shouldn't have thanked me. It was my job to make sure her daughter stayed safe forever and I didn't do that."

Marshall didn't answer her, just pulled her into his arms, letting her get out all of her frustrations. He could feel her shaking with it. She was mad at the world but mostly herself.

"I think that we do this hugging thing to much," she told him, her voice muffled. She tried to pull away but Marshall wouldn't let her.

"For once, just once, let someone else take care of you."

She resisted for a second more, but finally wrapped her arms around Marshall's waist. His body blocked the wind, warming her and somehow, it helped ease the rest of her grief as well.

When they finally made it back inside, they said goodbye to Anita. Mary gave her one of her business cards, telling Anita to contact her if she ever needed anything and to arrange for Maria's personal affects to be ship when they were released from the police department. Their flight wasn't until the morning, so Marshall drove them to a restaurant that Anita had suggested. Mary had steak, but didn't talk much during dinner. Marshall didn't press her.

When they got back to the hotel, Mary got dressed and promptly fell asleep, her arm draped across Marshall's waist.

* * *

They were in Boston when they got the call, waiting out a three hour layover. Mary glanced at her phone, surprised to see the office's number in her caller ID. She held the phone up for Marshall, letting him see the number, and raised an eyebrow in question. Marshall just shrugged.

"Mary," she answered.

"Mary, it's Eleanor." The caller was even more of a surprise to Mary. She couldn't figure out what was so important that Eleanor had to call her now. Why not wait a few hours until Mary was back in the office?

"What is it?"

"We had a break in Nancy's case. Do you have your computer with you?"

Mary smacked Marshall, getting his attention, then pointed to the laptop case at his feet. "I've got Marshall's." He handed it to her and she opened it up, connecting to the airport's WiFi.

"I've emailed it to you."

True to her word, an email showed up in Mary's inbox seconds later. "You. Little. Shit."

Marshall looked up, surprised. It wasn't uncommon for Mary to insult people, but usually they did something first. Insulting Eleanor that much seemed a little drastic. "What happened?"

"Not you," she said, distracted, not listening to his question. Her eyes were scanning the computer screen. "Nancy's friend, Amie, the one she sent the birthday card." _The one that caused her death. _ Neither of them said it, but it hung in the air.

"What about her?"

"Someone has been depositing money into her bank account for the past two months, three grand a week."

"What kind of job does she have that she gets three grand a week?"

"She's a receptionist for a law firm."

Marshall's eyes widened in shock. Amie was getting paid off by someone and not very discreetly. "Who's putting it there?"

"A JD Enterprises."

"J.D. as in… Jason Diego? The scumbag that Nancy was testifying against?"

"The one and the same."

"I don't believe it. It wasn't someone in the post office. It was Amie. Amie gave up her best friend for money. All because of a stupid letter."

"I don't think it was the letter," Mary told him. She turned the computer screen around and Marshall saw the date of the first deposit. It was almost a year after Nancy had been in the program, but many months before they ever found Jason. J.D. Enterprises had deposited a hundred thousand dollars into Amie's account.

"How could that be?"

"I think that Nancy told her. I think that Amie knew way before Nancy sent the letter. I think that's _why_ Nancy sent it to her and not to her mother."

"Of course," Marshall said, leaning back in his chair. "Amie already knew. Nancy had already put her in that danger. But if her mother got a letter from her daughter it would be a whole different can of worms."

"And then Amie betrayed her. That little shit." Mary turned her screen back toward herself, wanting to give Amie a taste of her own medicine. She betrayed her best friend and, what's worse, was getting paid for it. "Eleanor, we have to pick this girl up. And we have to do it before she figures out we know. Or worse, before Jason finds out that we know."

"Do you want me to call the PD in Maine?" Eleanor asked, the sound of her fingers typing on the keyboard coming through the phone.

"Let them know what's going on but tell them just to keep a, discreet, eye on her. It's a federal case and I want to arrest this girl myself."

"I can call the FBI."

"They'll take too long. Let them know what's going on but we're the closest to her. They can meet up with us and transport her to DC. I need you to book us a flight on the first one back to Maine out of Logan Airport." Mary heard the tapping of the keys again.

"I have a flight leaving in fifteen minutes, gat E5. I'll call the airport, get them to hold the flight and let you on. You two do have your badges on you, right?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course we have our badges."

"Never hurts to check." She hung up the phone without a goodbye and Mary handed the laptop back to Marshall. She stood up, slinging bags over her shoulder.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Marshall started picking up the few bags that they had.

"We're going back to Maine to pick up Amie. And believe me, Amie is going to wish we weren't."


	11. Chapter 11

Here is chapter eleven! I hope that you enjoy it. The next chapter should be up soon (My beta sent it to me already; I just got lazy and haven't read through it/posted it yet. XD)

* * *

The flight, though only an hour, seemed to take forever. Mary and Marshall were sitting in first class, discussing quietly what they were going to do when they got there. The Maine State Police wouldn't be able to mobilize much sooner than when Mary and Marshall arrived; the warrants you needed to burst into someone's house unannounced took time to get. The FBI was on its way, but it would be hours before they ever reached their destination. The police would be waiting for the two Marshals, ready to escort them to Amie's house.

No sooner had the seatbelt sign been off then Mary and Marshall jumped up, grabbing things out of the overhead compartment. They didn't even wait for the gate to fully connect to the door, just jumped across when the gap was small enough to do so.

Four state police squad cars waited outside along with a black suburban. There was a cop holding the keys and Marshall grabbed them, jumping into the driver seat. Marshall practically floored it out of the parking lot. The gate was open, causing no delays in their escape.

Everyone was cleared out of their way; the squad cars took care of that. Mary had her phone out, reading directions off to Marshall as he needed them. They knew Amie lived close to Anita, but didn't know the exact location. Less than twenty minutes after getting on the road, they pulled up in front of a red brick house, three blocks from Nancy's mother's house. Marshall pulled two Kevlar vests out of the back seat, handing the smaller one to Mary. She gave him a look of disgust.

"Do I have to?" They were incredibly uncomfortable to wear and usually she could get away with not wearing one.

"Yes, you have to. You don't know who's in there."

"Some prissy little girl who thought she could make a quick buck and probably doesn't even own a gun."

"Mary, don't argue, just put it on."

She grumbled some more, but Velcroed the vest on. They both pulled their Glocks out, ready to enter the house. The local officers fell back, covering the doors, but Mary and Marshall were going to be the first to go in. They approached carefully and stood on either side of the front door. Marshall glanced at Mary and she nodded at him. He kicked open the door, gun in front of him. An empty living room greeted him. Mary slipped in behind him. Marshall pointed towards the hallway off the living room and they split up, searching the small, one level house. They met in the kitchen in the back of the house.

"Nothing," Mary told him.

"She has to be somewhere. There was a half packed suitcase in her bedroom."

"Someone tipped her off. She knew that we were coming."

"Maybe she _heard_ us coming and took off before we got here."

"Either way," Mary sighed, "she's gone."

"But how far?"

"What?"

"Mare, her car is still out front. Where ever she's gone, she's gone there on foot."

"What's within walking distance?" The realization hit at the same time.

"Anita," they said together, sprinting out the door. Marshall ran faster but Mary had him in sight the whole time. The local officers watching were more than confused when the two Marshals bolted past them, but sent some officers after them anyway, not asking questions.

When they reached Anita's house, they could see Amie through the window, pointing her gun at Anita. Marshall dragged Mary behind a huge bush in Anita's front yard and signaled for the three cops that had followed to also stay out of sight.

"What are we doing?" Mary asked. "We have to get in there before she blows Anita's brains all over her couch."

"If we rush that door, guns blazing, Amie might do it anyway. Look at her. That girl is scared and had never handled a gun in her life. I don't want to jeopardize Anita because we decided to burst in there."

"So what, exactly, do you propose we do?"

Marshall was quiet and Mary let him be. She knew he was thinking, figuring something out that would get everyone out safely. "You sneak around and come in the back door."

"How is that any better than going in the front?"

"I'll distract her, talk to her. If I can get her attention on me, maybe you can take her out from behind."

"Marshall, I don't like it. If Amie starts shooting, you'll be right in her line of fire."

"We have to do something and if we both go in there, then we'll both take some bullets."

She knew that he was right but that didn't mean that she liked the idea any more. "Fine, but if the girl even flinches towards that trigger, I want you to get out of there. Your only job is to distract her, not get yourself killed." She slipped into the neighbor's yard, their high wooden fence hiding her approach.

Marshall watched until Mary disappeared. Marshall holstered his gun and zipped up the jacket he wore, hiding the vest. It was best if he looked like he was just coming to see Anita. He figured the less that he scared Amie, the better off everyone was going to be. He pressed the doorbell firmly, hearing the soft chimes come from inside the house.

"Answer," he heard Amie hiss from inside. "Don't you dare tell them I'm here."

"Who's there?" Anita called through the door, her voice shaking.

"Anita, it's Marshall Mann. From the Marshal Service. I just need some signatures on paper work."

"Get rid of him," came Amie's voice.

"Can we do it later?" she asked Marshall.

"I have a flight to catch. It will only be a few signatures." He tried the door and found it unlocked. "I promise it will only take a minute." He opened the door, revealing Amie and Anita off to the side in the sitting room. The gun was pointed straight at Anita's head. "Anita, what's going on?"

"Don't move!" Amie shouted. "Don't move or I blow her brains out."

Marshall could see Amie's hand shaking. The girl was scared, frightened out of her mind, and was being careless with the weapon in her hand. "Amie, be careful. You don't want to do anything that you'll regret."

"Let me go," she told him. "I want a way to get out of here."

"I'm not sure that's going to be possible," he told her, keeping his voice even and calm.

"Make it fucking possible!" she screamed. "I'm not going to jail. I'm not taking the fall for her again."

"You don't have to take the fall for anyone. Just let Anita go and maybe I can help you." He moved slowly across the room, causing Amie to turn away from the door. A hallway cut through to the kitchen that would allow Mary to enter unseen. If he could keep Amie's attention on him, Mary would be able to sneak up behind her.

"Stop moving!" She pointed the gun at Marshall and he put his hands up. He was stopped in front of the window, only halfway to where he wanted to be. Mary wouldn't be able to see into the living room from the angle that she was approaching. She was trusting that Marshall would divert Amie's attention. He backed up, more towards where he wanted to be, like he was trying to get away from the gun pointed at him. It worked, putting Amie's back completely to the doorway.

"Amie, calm down. Just put down the gun."

She pointed the gun away from Marshall, but retrained it on Anita, who still sat at her feet. Anita was quiet, her body shaking but otherwise managing to hold it together well. Marshall was impressed that she was managing to stay calm with such a careless handler.

"All I ever did way pay for what Maria did. She did things without ever thinking about the consequences. She was the reason I got kicked out of school. It was her fault that my parents split up. Instead of just shutting her god damn mouth, she had to go testify against Jason. She should have known he'd find her."

"She trusted you."

"She was an idiot and finally got what she deserved."

"She deserved to die?"

"She deserved a lot more than to just die," Amie spat.

"And Anita? What does she deserve?"

"I need her to get out. You won't let me leave if I let her go."

Marshall saw Mary creep behind Amie, making no sound with her gun drawn. Amie was so engrossed in talking to Marshall, in her desperate attempt to get out, that she didn't even notice Mary.

"I can't let you leave anyway."

Amie raised the gun again, pointing it at Marshall. "I'm not going to give you a choice." She pulled the trigger, getting a shot off before Mary had the chance to hit her from behind, dragging her to the floor. Grabbing the gun from her hand, Mary cuffed her to the nearest stationary object. She didn't bother securing her further, knowing that cops would be crawling all over the place in seconds now that a gunshot had been heard. She ran over to Marshall who hadn't moved since the gun had gone off.

"Marshall," Mary said frantically, kneeling next to him. "Marshall!"

"Ow," he complained. His eyes opened slowly. "That really hurt."

"Where were you hit?"

"What?"

"Marshall, where did she hit you?" Mary's voice was frantic, scared that the bullet had hit something vital.

"Calm down, I'm fine."

"Fine? You just got shot! You're not fine!"

Marshall unzipped the jacket he was wearing and it took Mary's brain a second to register that the blue shirt he was wearing was actually blue _Kevlar_. "I'll just have a few pretty vicious bruises."

Mary started laughing that hysterical, but relieved, laughter. She sat down on the floor next to him, not being able to control it. "Why do we have such a proficiency for getting shot?"

"Everyone has to be good at something." He gave her hand a quick squeeze, knowing that her laughter was nothing more than all the adrenaline leaving her body.

Mary turned her head to look at her partner. "You're really alright?"

"I was about to stand back up and everything." They both hoisted themselves to their feet. The cops had entered by now and the paramedics were looking over Anita. The two Marshals walked over to her.

"Hey, you alright?" Mary knew it was a stupid question. How could you be alright after something like that? But she was at a loss as to what to say.

"I'm alive," she responded. "Thanks to the two of you."

"Marshall likes to play knight in shining armor. Thank goodness you decided to play damsel in distress or I would have had to do it myself."

"Please, even when you are in distress you never ask for even a regular knight, let alone one in armor," Marshall

Anita smiled at them, though it was a shaky grin. "I'm sure if she were in real trouble, you would rescue her whether she wanted it or not."

Marshall just shrugged. It was true. "Do you need anything?"

"No, you two have done so much for me already."

"You have our number if you think of anything," Mary told her.

"Thank you."

The two Marshals turned, walking out of the house into the late afternoon sunshine. "How long until the FBI gets here?"

"I don't know. An hour or so?" Amie was walked past them, hands cuffed behind her back. "I guess we should call them and tell them where to pick Amie up."

"We're letting them take this case?"

"It's their case to begin with," Marshall reminded her. "Bringing her to justice is not your job."

"I guess. I swear to God, if she ends up in our office, I'm going to throw her out a window."

Marshall laughed, knowing that it wouldn't end well for Amie if she ended up in WITSEC. "Mary, something tells me, they would never relocate her to Albuquerque."

"Yeah, I guess it would be easy for Jason to find her."

"I think they'd be more worried about you."

Mary smacked him, but her hand hit the Kevlar, causing her more pain than him. "Ow, jerk. Let's go eat. Guy who got shot gets to pay."

"Of course I do."

* * *

Marshall watched her carefully, but she seemed to act as if nothing had happened. Their entire trip to Maine had been almost surreal. Marshall had never seen Mary act like that in his life. She had never been reliant on another person like she had allowed herself to be those few days and Marshall thought that something might change. He hoped that they could finally figure out what was going on between them. It was so frustrating Marshall wanted to scream. He knew what he wanted out of the quasi-relationship with Mary, but telling her that would only lead to problems.

He watched her fiddling with the paperclips on her desk. He walked over to her desk, offering up a cup of coffee. She took it gratefully, but her mood remained distracted. "What's bothering you?"

"You mean other than I just got back from a funeral of one of my witnesses, just before I arrested her best friend?"

"I thought Stan made you go see someone for that?"

"He did."

"You told me it was helping."

"Believe it or not, it is. Apparently sarcasm is my coping method. Who would of thought?"

"Only everyone. What's really bothering you?"

Mary sighed, taking a drink. "The whole situation with Amie just makes me angry. I know that it wasn't my fault, that there wasn't anything I could have done but…" she shrugged. "It's such a waste of so many lives for a measly half million dollars."

"I bet you it was an even million." He took a sip of his coffee, staring at the city through the window behind Mary's head.

"How could you _possibly_ know that?"

He looked at her and shrugged. "People prefer round numbers. Besides, who asks for a half million? Nope, I'd bet you anything it was meant to be a million."

Mary was silent, turning her chair to look at the same view Marshall had been staring at. The whole situation seemed entirely unfair, but at least now she knew what had happened. At least she knew that Nancy had gotten herself killed by trusting the wrong person.

"You're angry," Marshall said.

"Of course I'm angry. Nancy trusted one person, just one, and she got killed because of it. It just proves that everyone has a price."

It was a depressing outlook on life, but he knew she was right. Even though it may not be money, everyone has something they couldn't live without. If someone told him to rob a bank or Mary died, he would almost certainly rob the bank.

"I'm just glad that, at the very least, you finally figured out that it wasn't your fault. Now I just wish I could get you to stop feeling so guilty about it all."

Mary spun in her chair to face him, a little surprised. "How could you tell?"

"How could I not?" he asked, shrugging. "You ready to head home?"

It was around seven even though it was still light out. It was hard to believe that it had only been two weeks, two weeks since coming back from the funeral, two weeks in which she had solved her case. She was more than ready to go home. "I'm driving," she said.

"Mary, we took two separate cars. I'm pretty sure we're both driving."

They went back to Marshall's place. He cooked dinner while she tried to eat the ingredients. They both sat down and talked while they ate about completely unimportant things. Mary insisted that the Power Rangers could take on the Thunder Cats while Marshall argued that the Power Rangers couldn't take out a regular cat, let alone a Thunder Cat.

Marshall cleaned; even though he had cooked, he didn't really care. Mary sucked at dishes if there was no dishwasher. He had one, but it was just easier to hand wash the dishes. After all, it was just him living there. When he finished, he turned to see Mary almost directly behind him. She wrapped her arms around his neck so that she could pull his head down and kiss him. It was slow and intense, but Marshall thought that all of her kisses were intense. Mary was an intense person.

"What was that for?" It had taken him a minute to put the sentence together but somehow he had managed.

"Let's go upstairs," she suggested.

"We're going to bed? Mary, it's 9:30. I'm not tired."

"That's Ok, I wasn't planning to sleep."

Marshall figured it out immediately. "Oh."

Mary didn't say another word, just easily led him upstairs.


	12. Chapter 12

Next chapter! Also, I only have about three chapters left to this story. So enjoy it while you can because it's almost finished! As always, thanks to my beta ladymars. She's super duper helpful in fixing my mistakes.

* * *

Marshall woke up to Mary naked next to him. Already it was a good morning for him. In fact, he had a feeling that the entire day was going to be pretty fantastic. He just watched her sleeping, her back going up and down with her breath. She looked peaceful when she was asleep. Marshall couldn't stop himself. He ran his hand lightly up and down her back, softly massaging the muscles as he went. She leaned a little closer to him but didn't wake. He lifted his hand so that just his finger tips were brushing up and down her spine. A smile spread across her face and Marshall knew that she had finally woken up.

"That tickles," she murmured, still more asleep than awake.

"I didn't peg you as a ticklish person."

"Says the guy who gets ticklish if you even look at his feet."

He didn't deny the fact. Mary had discovered his ticklish feet by accident one day and hadn't let him live it down since. "What do you want for breakfast?"

She opened one eye to look at him. "You're making me breakfast?"

"I frequently make you breakfast. In fact, I just about always make you breakfast if you're at my house in the morning. I have since the first day that I met you."

"So does this mean I get the shower first too?"

"Not a chance."

"Some host you are."

"Don't pretend you care. We both know you like to sleep while I shower anyway." He got up and Mary reflexively slid into the warm spot that he had just occupied. It wasn't as warm as Marshall.

"Hey, I didn't say you could get up yet." She felt him slide back into bed, his warmth ridding her of the cold. She always thought he kept the AC up way too high.

"Too cold?"

"What's wrong with just sleeping in? It's Saturday. You're supposed to sleep in on Saturday. I'm sure it's even a law somewhere. Like my house."

"I like to get up and start the day."

"I like to sleep in. I win."

"Why do you win?"

"Because I said that I do."

They were both silent for a minute and Marshall knew that she was already starting to doze. "I can't make breakfast if I'm still in bed."

"Damn." She moved so he could get up. She fell asleep less than a minute afterwards. Marshall took his shower and went downstairs, starting breakfast. He knew the smell of food would wake her. He wasn't exactly sure how that worked but there were more than a few things about Mary that he couldn't explain. Sure enough, seconds after he had plated the first batch of pancakes, Mary came stumbling down the stairs. He just handed her a cup of coffee and placed the plate of food in front of her. When they finished, he cleaned, just like he always did.

"You cook and you clean. Maybe I should just keep you at my house so that I don't have to do anything."

"Ok."

Mary chuckled until she looked at him and realized that he was completely serious. Not only was he serious, but he was happy about it. A smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, giving him that slightly sappy but inevitably adorable smile that he seemed to have when he looked at her lately. The one she tried to ignore, telling herself that it didn't mean anything and, at the end of the day, that nothing had really changed between Marshall and her.

"Marshall, we can't live together."

"Why not?"

"Because we work together!"

"We also eat together, joke together, hang out together, watch television together and sleep together."

"You don't think that we already have a little too much togetherness? Things work between us. Why would you want to jeopardize that by moving in together?"

"Because that's what people do, Mary, they do things like date, get to know each other and move in together."

Mary stood up, angry. "I don't remember doing any of that. There was no dating process or getting to know me."

"What the hell do you call the past eight years!" He slammed his hands down on the island between them. "I don't need to get to know you; all these years have let me know you better than any human possibly could. I don't need to date you to decide that I want a relationship with you."

"Woah, when did this suddenly become a relationship?" She held her hands up, the word "relationship" scaring her. Was that really what he thought it was?

"What would you call it, Mary? I see you almost every second of everyday. I cook for you, clean for you, kiss you, hug you, and sleep with you. What else does a relationship have if not all those things?"

"I don't know!" She turned away, running her hand through her hair before setting her eyes on him again. "It has a different feel. There's more romance, more touching."

"You hate those things. Why would I do them?"

"Ok, but I still wouldn't call it a relationship."

"Give me one good reason it's not."

"There's no love, Marshall!" She screamed it at him and Marshall had to take a step back.

"You don't love me." It wasn't a question. There was so much pain written across his face, Mary had to stop herself from comforting him, from taking him into her arms, kissing him and telling him that things were going to be fine. She couldn't do that. She couldn't let him go on thinking that there was more here than there was.

"Not like that. I love you in the way I always have: as my friend, partner and one of the most important people in my life."

His hands were at his sides, balled up tightly as he was trying to control himself. "I'm good enough to hang out with, good enough to fuck but not good enough to love?" His voice was so quiet, Mary had to strain to hear him.

"You act like I'm crazy! A few months ago, you were ready to ask Sarah to marry you and now, here you are, wanting to move in with me. You don't think that's odd?" Her hands went to her hips, the annoyance once again overtaking her other emotions.

"I wasn't going to marry Sarah. I never intended to ask her."

"Then why the hell—oh, my god." She covered her face with her hands, rubbing her eyes, willing away the urge to scream. It was too early for this. "Please tell me it wasn't for me."

"When are you going to figure out that it's all for you? Everything I have to give has always been for you."

"You shouldn't love me."

"Yeah, and why not?"

"Because… because I'm not good enough for you."

"Apparently, I'm not good enough for you, either." He walked out before she could answer. It was a full five minutes before Mary realized that she had just made Marshall storm out of his own house.

* * *

Marshall just drove. He drove as far away from his house, speeding down the interstate at a pace that no one should, but he couldn't get away fast enough. It was his own fault and he knew it. After all these years of knowing her, after things finally going in the direction that he wanted them to, he screwed it up because he didn't let her come to him. He had mentioned a relationship before she had and scared her off.

Marshall finally slowed and pulled over to the side of the road, his vision blurred. He put his head on the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing. At the end of the day, he had always thought that Mary loved him. He thought that, if confronted with the idea, that she would realize that she really did care for him, especially after everything that had happened between the two of them.

He hit the wheel with his fist. Over and over and over again he hit it until his hand ached. She didn't love him. He heard her say it, the words replaying themselves in his head. She had been right in one sense. He shouldn't love her. She was completely the wrong type of woman to love but he hadn't been able to stop himself. There was something about Mary that just sucked you in and you either hated her vehemently or loved her so much it hurt.

He composed himself and started driving again. He still headed away from his house, wanting to put as much distance as he could between him and her. He didn't have to be at work until Monday and he could avoid his house even longer. Monday was still going to be awful. He would have to look at her everyday, knowing that nothing was ever going to happen. He was going to be the best friend forever.

He couldn't completely decide if it was a bad thing or not. He loved Mary, more than anything and couldn't imagine cutting her out of his life. At the same time, he didn't think he'd be able to see her every day, to look at her knowing that it was never going to happen. He had been so close and now everything was falling apart around him.

His choices were few. Either way, he was certain he wasn't going to like it.

* * *

Mary left immediately, bringing everything she had left at Marshall's house with her. She wasn't expecting to be invited back. She wasn't sure she wanted to come back. All this time Marshall had loved her and she'd never even known it. All this time and she had been oblivious to how much he actually cared.

The worst part was, she should have known. Marshall wasn't like her. He didn't really do one night stands or casual relationships. He wasn't prone to sleeping with a girl that he didn't care about on some level. She should have known from the moment that she kissed him that this wasn't just a fling for him. It was the real thing.

The more she thought about it, the more she started to notice things. How he cooked for her, fixed things once she let him, taken her on multiple dates, though she had never really realized that was what they were. She had always thought she was just hanging out with her friend. Marshall let her believe it because, when something did happen between them, Mary hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. He did all the things a boyfriend would do, but they were also the things that _Marshall_ always did just because he was that kind of person.

Some friend she was. She didn't even notice when her best friend had fallen in love with her. What's more, she didn't help the situation by showing interest. She had kissed him. She had slept by his side every night. She was the one who had made the decision to sleep with him. Marshall had pushed none of those things on her. If only she had paid attention. She would have never led him on if she had known how strongly he felt. He had even told her, mentioning Sarah's insight when they broke up. His ex-girlfriend figured it out; why had she been so ignorant?

She couldn't sleep that night. Part of her was cursing herself for what she had said to Marshall. Even if she didn't love him like he wanted, she could have thought of a better way to say it to him. Part of her was indignant. How could he do something like fall for her? It was like he hadn't learned anything about her in the past eight years. She wasn't a relationship type of girl. Raph had been her longest and even that had ended, despite how hard she had tried.

However, the biggest part of her just missed Marshall. She missed having him by her side, in her home, sleeping next to her. She missed him cooking, him doing her dishes and stealing her TV remote to watch _Jeopardy._ She missed pretending that she hated the show. He had been a welcome presence and she missed having him there to do all the quirky things she had come to enjoy when he stayed over. She liked that when Marshall stayed over, all they did was sleep.

At least, until last night. Last night seemed like a different world to her. She wasn't fighting with Marshall, didn't know he loved her, didn't think she was in any sort of real relationship with him. Last night, it had been the best she'd ever had, not that she'd ever tell Marshall. All the usual things that could make that experience awkward weren't an issue with Marshall. He had been right; he knew her better than anyone in her life and when he had made love to her, well, it had felt exactly like that. Marshall had loved her.

She didn't know what to do anymore. Things couldn't just go back to the way they were, she knew that much. Something was going to change between her and Marshall and that scared her more than any relationship.

* * *

Marshall was there already by the time Mary pulled up on Monday. She wasn't surprised; Marshall was almost always in before her. In fact, the past month or so was the only time she seemed to be on time for work. Marshall would always drag her out of bed and made sure she was ready to go when he was. The fact that he bribed her with breakfast didn't hurt either.

Her stomach grumbled at the thought of food. She hadn't eaten that morning, not really having the time to do so. She also hadn't had time to pick up a coffee. Already she felt that it was going to be a bad day. She came in, closing the door to the office a little harder than was necessary. Marshall sat at his desk, eyes glued to the screen. He didn't even mumble a hello.

"Mary, just because you're in a bad mood doesn't mean that you need to punish the poor defenseless office building," Eleanor told her, handing her two file folders before she even had a chance to sit down.

"How do you know that it didn't insult me behind your back?"

"Because it tells me everything. I also know about you trying to break into it. It was very offended."

Mary made a face, snatching the folders out of Eleanor's hands. She sat down at her desk and there, sitting in front of her, was breakfast and a still hot cup of coffee. "Did you do this?" she asked Marshall.

He looked up from his work for the first time since she had walked in the door. "Hm? Oh, yeah. You didn't eat, did you?"

"No, but how did you know that?"

He just shrugged. "Because you only ever eat when someone else cooks it for you."

Marshall had turned back to his work but Mary looked at him, stunned. How did he manage to know something like that? He seemed to know the things she did before she did, catering to her every move. How could she have never noticed things like this?

Maybe she had just never figured out the motives behind them. Previously she thought he had just done things for her to placate her. She could be a pain in the butt and Marshall just found it easier to give her what she wanted. Now she was starting to wonder if he did things not because he felt he had to but because he genuinely _wanted_ to. She ate her meal in stunned silence.

Marshall finally looked over at her when he hadn't heard her speak for awhile. "Are you alright?" He looked confused. He was used to Mary talking endlessly. Even when she worked, she talked to herself. It was just something you grew used to when you worked with her.

"I'm fine. Just hungry," she said, holding up the breakfast sandwich in her hand.

They worked in an unusual silence for most of the morning. Every so often, Stan would come out, giving something to Eleanor, and shoot them an odd look. Finally, after the third or so time doing this he asked, "You two aren't fighting again, are you? Can't you just figure it out like grown-ups?"

"We're not fighting, Stan," Marshall informed him.

"You're telling me Mary is being quiet all on her own?" He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"What? You two act like I never shut up," she commented.

"You've clearly never spent time in a room with yourself," Marshall said, Stan and Eleanor nodding their heads in agreement.

"You're over exaggerating."

"I think it's more likely you just don't realize how often you open your mouth," Eleanor said to her. Mary had no response other than to glare and go back to her work.

She knew how much she talked but usually it was because she just couldn't stand silence. Today it was exactly what she needed. The office was eerily quiet without her talking to herself as she worked or jabbering at Marshall. It gave her time to think. And to observe Marshall without him really noticing.

The more she watched him, the more she cursed her own idiocy. How could she not have known? She didn't even want to think about what had happened. Yet here he was, still acting as if they were best friends and nothing had changed.

At least until lunch.

"Where do you want to eat?" she asked him, filing some folders.

"I brought my lunch."

"Since when?"

"Since today. I just felt like it."

"Come out anyway. You can eat your lunch tomorrow when I'm more prepared."

Marshall looked up from his desk, sighing. "Mary, I'm not going out to lunch. Go by yourself or pick something up and bring it back here."

The same thing happened towards the end of the day. Most nights they had dinner unless there was something that one of them couldn't get out of. Tonight, Marshall just decided not to eat.

"You have to eat sometime," she protested.

"I will later." He took his suit jacket off the back of the chair, slinging it over his arm. "I have things to get done. Maybe later this week."

"Marshall-" but he had already walked out the door.


	13. Chapter 13

I'm back! I should warn everyone, there's only one chapter left after this. Then this project will be done. I've been working on it since the end of January… I don't really know what I'm going to do with myself after this (though ladymars, my beta, has requested that it not be quite so epic. She's so good to me I have a hard time not complying with her request.) Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Marshall ate by himself, just like he knew he would be. He predicted that he'd be eating by himself a lot in the next few weeks or maybe months. He had promised himself that he wouldn't act any differently around Mary, but he couldn't go back. He couldn't spend the amount of time with her that he used to knowing… He shook his head. There wasn't hope any longer. He had screwed that up. Then again, maybe there had never been any real hope to begin with.

When he went back to work the next morning, things were quiet just as they had been the day before. It was like Mary had been stunned into silence. But by the time the afternoon had hit, she was tired of the quiet that had been permeating the office. She was once again babbling to herself as she wrote. Marshall even heard her curse at the computer screen a few times, making him chuckle to himself.

Finally, something frustrated her so much she picked up the folder she was writing in and chucked it across the office.

"That is the most convoluted thing that I have ever seen in my life!" she screamed at it.

"Filling out the 6-50W form?"

She laid her head on her desk. "Yes," was the muffled response he got. She picked her head up. "For all the good it's doing me."

Marshall didn't blame her for being annoyed. They practically had to teach a course on those forms. Marshall had figured them out so he had taken over Mary's too. At the end of the day she messed them up more often than she got them right, delaying the process even longer. She had asked him to fill out a few, but he had told her he had his own paper work to do.

Yet there was that part of him that couldn't stand to see her so aggravated. "Give them to me." He held out his hand.

"You said you were too busy."

"I forgot that you just end up making more work for everyone when you fill them out."

"That's your fault."

"How is it my fault?"

"If you would have let me do it myself, I'd know how by now."

"I don't think that's true," Marshall said, shaking his head. "I think that you don't have the patience for the 6-50s."

"I've been partners with you for eight years. What bigger test of patience is there?"

"Says the woman who just threw her paperwork across the room."

"Whatever. It's your fault I'm not the patient one in this relationship."

He knew she hadn't meant anything by it. They were in a relationship of sorts, just not the kind that Mary considered romantic. It didn't change the fact that she threw the word around so casually, like nothing had been happening between them. He got up and picked up her forms from the floor. He filled them out silently.

"How long are you going to be like this?" she finally asked. "I mean, can I mark on the calendar when Marshall is done with him temper-tantrum?"

Marshall looked towards Eleanor and Stan, both of whom were in ear shot. "Could we talk about this later?"

She stood in front of his desk and crossed her arms. "No."

"Of course not," he mumbled to himself. "Heaven forbid we do anything that's not on Mary's time table." He grabbed his jacket off the chair. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" He was walking quickly and taking full strides. Mary could barely keep up with him. She hated when he did that.

He was silent until the elevator doors were safely closed. "We're going somewhere we can talk about it without the whole office knowing. It's bad enough they know we're fighting. They certainly don't need to know why."

"I'm not sure I understand why." The elevator had opened and Marshall was walking again. They went to his car and he opened her door. Mary just stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"Holding the door open. Will you just get in already?"

She did as asked but not without shooting him another look. Marshall got in the driver's side and drove. They didn't go anywhere specific, just drove around Albuquerque, silent.

"Are you going to say something?" he asked her.

"I already asked you something. You just didn't answer."

"Mare," he sighed. "Things aren't going to go back to normal." He hated saying it, hated admitting that their friendship was forever changed. He had wanted to go back to normal but the more he tried the harder it became.

"What are you talking about? You're going to let something stupid like this get between us?"

He abruptly pulled over into an empty parking lot. Mary was about to curse him out until she noticed his hands were white they were gripping the steering wheel so hard. "You think this is stupid?" he asked quietly. "You think it's stupid!" He screamed it, finally turning to look at her. "You think that I'm an idiot for letting myself feel anything for you. You think that everyone should close themselves off exactly like you do. Maybe I am an idiot. But I fell in love with you before I knew better." He got out of the door, slamming it so hard Mary was afraid the window was going to break. She got out, following him.

"Don't blame this on me!" she yelled at him. "So just because you decide to go and get all emotional on me, it's my fault I don't reciprocate?"

"No, but you could at least _pretend_ that you give a shit about anyone else. Fine, you're not in love with me. Fine, I'm only good enough to sleep with. Fine, you don't want a relationship. But the least you can do is stop acting like it means nothing and that I'm a moron because of it."

"Maybe if you would stop moping around like a lovesick moron I wouldn't have to keep saying it!"

He trapped her against the car, his palms flat on the windows, one on either side of her. He stood close, enough that she could smell him, that same smell that used to linger in the bed every morning, the one she missed. Now it was right there, invading her senses and she had to stop herself from taking a deep breath. Marshall leaned down, his lips hovering above hers.

"So what if I am moping? So what if I did fall for you? Don't you want this, Mary? Don't you want to be able to feel like this every day? Heart pounding, breath coming quickly and every nerve on red alert." He kissed her, firmly and long. When he pulled back, his mouth was at her ear. "Who wouldn't want to feel that every single day?" He stepped back giving her space. He handed her the keys, walking to the passenger side. "You can drive."

But she didn't move right away. She was feeling every single thing he had mentioned.

And, damn it, he was right. She _did_ want all those things.

* * *

When Mary walked in, Brandi stood in the living room in her wedding dress. There was a full length mirror in front of her as she scrutinized herself from every angle.

"You don't think that it being backless makes me look trashy?" Brandi asked Jinx, who was playing with the skirt of the gown.

"No, sweetheart, you look amazing."

"I don't know," she argued. "I might need to let it out a little."

"It looks beautiful, Squish," Mary told her sister. Brandi turned, smiling at Mary.

"You really think I look good?"

Mary walked over and hugged her sister. "No one has looked better in a wedding dress."

"Thanks, Mare," she said softly. "We brought your dress too."

Mary let her sister go, making a face. "You're not really going to make we wear that are you?"

"C'mon, it's not that bad," Jinx protested.

"You're only saying that because you helped pick it out."

"It's my wedding day," Brandi interrupted. "You have to wear what I say you have to wear." She picked up a second box by the mirror and handed it to Mary. "Go try it on so we know it still fits like it's supposed to."

"Fine," she complained, taking the box out of her sister's hands. She came out a few minutes later, standing in front of the mirror next to her sister. In terms of bridesmaid's dresses, it could have been a lot worse. It was a light blue dress with straps that were off-the-shoulder. It had a small line of embellishment under the bust and then the gown hung to the floor. It wasn't poufy or cumbersome and was made of silk. Mary's heels were low so that she wouldn't be taller than her sister.

"You look great," Brandi told her.

"I guess I look alright," she said, shrugging.

"Now that everyone is in agreement on the dresses," Jinx said, "I have to get to my meeting." She kissed each of her girls before grabbing her purse and walking out the door. Brandi nudged her sister.

"What's wrong?" Brandi asked.

"Who says anything is wrong?"

"Because I've known you my whole life and usually it takes a bulldozer to get you to do anything you don't want to."

"Like try on a bridesmaid's dress?" Mary suggested.

"Or compliment me on my own."

"Hey, that one was genuine."

"I don't doubt it," Brandi agreed. "But usually all your compliments are followed by an insult."

Mary sighed, wondering when her sister became so perceptive. Personally, Mary almost liked it better when she was self-involved. Having two people in her life that were so observant when she seemed to be completely unobservant was getting obnoxious.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Brandi asked.

"Talking to who?"

"Marshall, duh."

"How the hell did you know this has to do with Marshall?" Mary asked, turning towards Brandi.

"Who else would it be about? If it were about me or mom, you would just take it out on us. The only one left is Marshall."

"It could be about my job."

"Which would involve Marshall," Brandi reminded her. "Besides, with you and Marshall dating, something was bound to go wrong eventually."

Mary walked over to the couch and plopped down on it. Brandi followed, though sat a little more carefully in her dress than Mary. "Your vote of confidence amazes me. And Marshall and I aren't dating."

Brandi raised an eyebrow. "Really? You could have fooled me."

"We just… hang out a lot."

"Yeah, if hanging out means having sex," Brandi laughed.

"Ok, you couldn't possibly know that!"

"Never underestimate my powers." They sat silently for a moment before Brandi spoke up again. "Mary, what did you say to him? It's obvious that things are bad. What could have happened that made you so angry with each other?"

"I told him I didn't love him."

"That would do it," Brandi said. "…Why exactly did you say that to him?"

"Because I don't."

Brandi started laughing, loudly. She tried to stop herself but another round of laughter burst from her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said between chuckles. "It's just-" She couldn't even finish the sentence when another fit of giggles came.

"What the hell is so funny?"

"Oh, God, you really don't know do you?"

"What?"

"You're completely in love with Marshall. You have been for a very long time. Pretty much since you met him."

"You're deranged," Mary told her.

"Or I'm right. Ok, we're going to do something I learned in my psych class. I'm going to ask you a bunch of questions. Answer them one-hundred percent honestly and quickly."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"Fine," Mary conceded. "But only to put to rest this stupid idea that I love Marshall."

"Who is the first person you think about in the morning?"

"I don't want to answer that one."

"Too bad," Brandi said. "Answer it anyway."

"Fine, Marshall," she said, sighing.

"Who do you spend the most time with?"

"Marshall, but I work with him, so it doesn't count."

"It totally counts," Brandi told her. "Person you confide in the most."

"Marshall."

"Person you yell at the least."

"Marshall."

"Best date you've ever had."

"Marshall."

"Best sex you've ever had."

"Marshall."

"Person you trust the most."

"Marshall."

"Person you're in love with."

"Marshall- Ohhhh, _shit!_"

"Told you," Brandi said smugly. "Now, get out of that dress before you wrinkle it."

* * *

"Hey, Marshall." Mary approached his desk the following morning. "Brandi wants to make sure you're still coming to the wedding this weekend."

"Is there a reason I wouldn't be?" He looked up from the papers on his desk. "Did you tell her to uninvite me or something?"

"No, she just wasn't sure if you'd still want to. You know, after everything."

"Does she know everything?"

"She's my sister," Mary said with a shrug. "It's not like I can talk to you, whether you were talking to me or not."

"I'm talking to you right now."

"No, you're speaking to me, not talking to me. Make sure you're at the church at three."

* * *

Marshall was early by about an hour. He knew that Brandi would be driving Mary absolutely crazy at this point and, if someone didn't intercede, this might turn into a funeral instead of a wedding.

"Because it's stupid, that's why!" he heard Mary yelling down the hall. He knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Mary screamed.

"Need any help?" When Mary turned around, Marshall had a hard time not reacting. He had seen her in a dress before but this time, with her hair done and make-up on, Mary just looked stunning in her blue gown. It took him a minute to remember that Brandi was supposed to be the center of attention.

"Yeah, can you drag my sister outside and knock some sense into her?" Brandi asked him.

"I'll figure something out," he promised, grabbing Mary's arm and pulling her out into the hall. "Whatever it is, let it go."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do to. It's Brandi's day. For once, just suck it up and do what she asks without yelling at her. If you're feeling overly ambitious you can tell her she looks beautiful."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. Now get back in there and I'll be waiting in the chapel, ever ready to make faces at you from the congregation and watch you try not to laugh."

"I knew you'd come through for me."

He did make faces when no one was looking. Mary was smiling through the whole thing, appearing as if she were actually enjoying the ceremony. He didn't see her for the first part of the reception. The wedding party was busy meeting and greeting and taking pictures. Dinner was served and then, finally, dancing commenced. Mary sat at the head table, playing with her champagne glass. Marshall walked up behind her and leaned down to talk to her.

"Want to dance?"

"No."

"Will you do it if I promise to make fun of the rest of the wedding party?"

She smiled at him. "Ok."

Marshall pulled her onto the floor. "I didn't realize you could dance."

"I didn't realize that you could dance without the right kind of attire."

"A tuxedo is always proper attire for dancing. Besides, it makes me feel like James Bond."

"Sean Connery or Pierce Brosnan?"

"Oh, definitely Connery." He spun her out and easily pulled her back to him.

"In your dreams," she told him. They slowed to a steady sway, not really saying anything. "Look at her."

"Look at who?" Marshall asked.

"My sister. She's so happy. Peter is everything she's always wanted in life. They're two people who are genuinely good for each other. Brandi isn't the girl that moved into my house years ago. She's better. Peter made her better."

"Peter just brought out all the good qualities that were already there." Marshall looked down at her. "That's what happens when people fall in love. They seem to bring out the best in each other."

"Marshall-"

"Mary!" Brandi came over, Peter in tow, and hugged her sister. "Thanks for your help today."

"Yeah, just don't get married again."

"Did you just curse our marriage, Mary?" Peter asked her.

"No, I gave you compliment."

"If anyone but you said that, I wouldn't believe them."

"What can I say? I just have that kind of trustworthy face." Three people started coughing to cover up their laughter.

"C'mon, Marshall," Brandi said pulling on his arm. "You have to dance with me before the night is over. Much as I love my darling husband, he can't dance a single step."

Peter just shrugged at Mary. "It's mostly true. Would you let me try and dance with you anyway?" He held out his hand and Mary accepted, smiled pulling at her lips.

"She's dancing with you," Brandi said when they were out of ear shot.

"Only because I promised her I'd make fun of the dress she had to wear."

"It's not that bad."

"It is for Mary."

Brandi couldn't argue the point. Mary hated all things feminine, it seemed. Or at least anything that had frills and look remotely like a dress. "She'll come around."

"I'm glad someone thinks so."

"You don't think that she's going to figure it out?"

"Let's say she did love me and she did realize it, neither of which I'm conceding to. The chances of Mary acting on it are about as high as you getting mauled by a polar bear and a regular bear in the same day."

"Interesting analogy."

"I got it off an E-Trade commercial," he said, grinning.

"That may just be a sign that you retain too much useless information," Brandi muttered.

"Be careful. You almost sounded like your sister right there."

"She cares about you more than anyone I've ever seen. She'll figure it out eventually. Sometimes, Mary just… takes a little longer to get there than the rest of us. Not to mention she's so stubborn she gives a mule a run for its money."

Marshall smiled but Brandi could tell it wasn't a happy smile. "I'm not sure I can wait for her to figure it out."

Before Brandi could answer, Mary and Peter walked up to them. "He wasn't kidding when he said he couldn't dance," Mary commented.

Brandi gave Marshall a sympathetic glance before turning towards her husband. "Mary's not that great of a dancer," she told Peter. "Don't let her convince you that it was all your fault."

"I'm not that bad of a dancer," Mary muttered.

"I know. You're actually surprisingly good," Marshall reassured her. He started dancing with her again as if to prove his point. "So where are they headed for their honeymoon?"

"Somewhere in the Caribbean. I'm not completely sure where but I hear there's not much on it. Why go somewhere with no sight-seeing?"

"I think a deserted island is a perfect place to honeymoon," he answered, chuckling. "I don't intend to see much outside of the walls of my hotel room on my own honeymoon."

"Ew, I really don't want to think about that when it comes to my sister. I mean, point taken, but still. Ew."

"So think about me doing it instead."

Mary did, smiling at the thought. "Marshall?"

"Hmm?"

"Let me come over tomorrow night."

"Mary," he protested, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"I think it might be just what we need."

"Is my answer really relevant? We both know that you're going to come over whether I really want you to or not."

"Then why are you arguing?"

"Because I am a master of self-inflicted misery."

"Everyone has to be good at something."

It was nearly midnight when Marshall finally managed to get home. He had left Mary right before the bouquet tossing, begging him not to leave yet. Well, she asked him to stay; Mary wasn't really one to beg. When he pulled into his driveway, there was another car there and someone standing at his door. When he got out, he could see the person more clearly and had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating in his tired state.

"Sarah?"

"Hey, Marshall."

* * *

Don't hate me! You know you think it's awesome that I stopped there, leaving all of you hanging in the balance. :D Oh, come on, you can't blame me, really. It was pretty much the perfect place to stop. Until next time! (and subsequently the last time for this story.)


	14. The Last Chapter

This is the last chapter! I know it's a little bitter sweet. I'm excited because it's done but now I don't really know what to do with my time. I hope you have enjoyed the story. I know that I've enjoyed writing it. And thank you for all your wonderful reviews!

* * *

Marshall and Sarah sat inside on opposite sides of his table. They didn't say anything, just sat there awkwardly, both of them wondering where to start. Marshall finally decided that he had to say something.

"What are you doing here?"

Sarah shrugged, her eyes still focusing on her folded hands. "I was hoping to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Us."

"There _is_ no us, Sarah. There hasn't been for a few months now."

She finally looked him in the face. "And for all that time I haven't been able to stop thinking about you once. Everyday I wonder if it was a mistake to walk out."

"Mistake or not, _you_ walked out. I believe it had something to do with Mary, my partner, who is, in fact, still my partner."

"I know that. And I know that maybe I overreacted. I was insanely jealous of her, of how much of your time she was allowed to dominate. Sometimes I have a hard time sharing."

"You would still have to share," he told her quietly.

"I know. But if I like you so much, I shouldn't be surprised that I have to share you with other people who like you as well." She leaned towards him, taking his hand. "We were good together, Marshall. We fit."

Marshall wanted to say yes. He wanted everything that Sarah could offer him. They had similar tastes and interests and she was fun to be around. She wanted a relationship. He could see himself caring for her, maybe even loving her one day. But she wasn't Mary. He loved Mary, Mary who refused to give him all the things that Sarah was offering to him right now. He wasn't sure that having a relationship with Sarah was really going to be fair to anyone.

"Let me think about it," he heard himself saying. "It's late and I'm tired. It's been an eventful day."

"I figured by the tux," she said, gesturing towards his attire. "Wedding?"

"Mary's sister got married."

"And you went?"

"You don't know Mary and her sister. If I didn't keep Mary from killing her, no one would have been able to."

Sarah smiled, chuckling softly. "It's a brave man that gets between two sisters."

"Sometimes, I wish I wasn't that brave." The smile on his face indicated that he didn't really mind that much. Sarah stood up, kissing him on the cheek.

"Just give me a call," she told him before leaving.

He didn't know what to do; there was a very strong part of him that wanted to say yes, wanted a relationship with Sarah. Once again, he was left with two options: stay strictly friends with Mary or leave her forever. Maybe being with Sarah would make it easier if he decided to leave. Maybe not being around Mary would finally make him able to fall for someone else, to have a relationship that wasn't so destructive.

Marshall sat there for awhile before finally dragging himself up his stairs. He didn't know what to do with the information that Sarah had just dropped on him. Mary was coming over tomorrow night but Marshall wasn't sure for what. Maybe she wanted to start up their non-relationship again but he couldn't do that. He was an all or nothing kind of guy and Mary seemed pretty hell-bent on nothing. He changed, hung up his tux and crawled into bed. Maybe Sarah was just the thing he needed. Maybe a relationship with someone who genuinely cared was exactly what he needed to forget about Mary.

* * *

Mary knew Marshall was home because his door was unlocked but every light in the house was out. She closed the door and then walked into the kitchen. No Marshall. She left the food she was holding on the counter, then walked into the living room, standing behind the couch.

"Marshall?" she called.

"I'm right here."

Mary jumped, and looked down, seeing Marshall stretched out below her. "What are you doing laying here in the dark?" She leaned over the couch, turning on the lamp on the end table.

"Thinking."

"About what? And why does it require darkness?"

"It takes away from the distractions." He stood up and walked into the kitchen, unpacking the take-out she had brought.

"You didn't answer my first question."

He turned to look at her, his face showing his exhaustion. "Mare, why did you come here tonight? What do you want from me?"

"Just to talk," Mary answered with a shrug. "I feel like my best friend is gone. I'm kind of lost without him."

"Don't, please."

"Marshall-"

"Sarah was here last night." He figured that she had a right to know.

"As in… your ex-girlfriend Sarah?"

"The one and the same."

"What did she want?"

"She wanted to get back together," Marshall told her with a sigh.

"You told her no, right?"

Marshall didn't answer. He couldn't even look Mary in the eyes. "I haven't told her anything yet. But I think you should know that I'm going to try again with her. I _need_ to try again with her."

"What? Why would you do something so stupid? That woman was crazy. There was a reason the two of you broke up."

He looked up at her, angry. "Why shouldn't I try again with her? We made sense and she likes me. She actually likes me. Who knows what could happen? _You_ were the only reason we broke up!"

"You have to be shitting me! You're blaming your breakup on me?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's pretty low, Marshall."

"The last fight Sarah and I had was over you. She thought that I spent too much time with you, that I was in love with you. It was the only thing we ever seemed to fight about."

"So, what, now you're going to stop hanging out with me for her? Are you going to get a new partner too?" Again he didn't answer but this time he at least kept eye contact with her. She realized that was exactly what he had been planning to do. Mary shook her head, over and over. "No. No, no, NO! You can't do that!" she screamed at him.

"Do what? Fix my life? Be happy for once?"

"It's a stupid idea, not to mention completely unfair!"

"Unfair? How could this possibly not be fair!"

"Because you can't make me fall in love with you and then run off and date someone else!"

Marshall was stunned into silence, not believing what he had just heard. "What… what did you say?" he managed to get out.

"Nothing," Mary mumbled, "I have to go." She made a mad dash for the door but Marshall managed to catch her, forcing the door closed with his hand just as she tried to open it. Mary turned, Marshall inches from her.

"Tell me what you just said." His voice was quiet, patient, all the anger gone.

"Do I have to repeat it?"

"Yes"

"Why?"

"Because there is no way I heard that right."

Mary took a deep breath but kept her eyes glued to her feet. She wasn't sure she was brave enough to look him in the face when she said it. "I said that I'm in love with you."

"You're not just saying that to get me into bed, are you?"

Mary looked up, surprised, before she saw the smile on his face. She shoved him a little. "I don't need to tell you that to get you into bed."

"Hey, I'm not that easy! I've got standards."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. You did sleep with Sarah."

"Oooo, low blow."

"Oh, shut up," she said, pulling him down to kiss her.

* * *

Marshall tried to creep quietly out of bed the next morning but a hand caught him. Soon an entire body had slid close to him, preventing him from going anywhere. "Mary, I just want to take a quick shower."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you always take all the warmth with you. If the bed gets cold, then I get cold and then I have to get up."

"Heaven forbid we get up before noon."

"Hey, I took today off for this stupid wedding. You better be damn sure that I'm sleeping in." She managed to escape the covers enough to look at him. "I still don't understand how you can get up at eight thirty…" she pushed herself up slightly so she could see the clock, "four in the morning."

"What can I say? I'm a morning person."

"I'm not, so you should stop being one."

"You should be glad that one of us is."

"Why?" she mumbled, her eyes closed.

"Because A. I get you to work on time. And B. if we ever had kids I can guarantee you wouldn't be getting them up to get them to school on time."

"…You think about if we're going to have kids?" She opened her eyes again, realizing that it was probably futile to try and get back to sleep.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"If I say yes, are you going to overreact like you did when I said we were in a relationship?"

"Christ," she said, rolling onto her back. "You freak out one time."

"Yes, I've thought about kids." He watched her, gauging her reaction at the news that he had contemplated their future.

"Kids… wow. That's… a big deal," she finally managed to say.

"Hey, don't do that," he said, moving closer and kissing her. "I've thought about it because I love you and I've wondered. I don't expect anything."

"So you're saying you don't need to have kids?"

"I'm saying that I want you more than I want a hypothetical future." He watched her relax. He had never known a person so adverse to commitment. "Now, are you going to let me get up and shower so that I can cook breakfast or are you going to make me stay in bed all day?"

A wicked smile crossed her face. "Well, both have their possibilities."

"It's like I'm dating a teenage boy," Marshall muttered, getting up to shower. He was done within minutes, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, then headed downstairs. He could hear Mary turning on the shower. He glanced in his fridge, wondering what to make this morning. He decided on waffles with strawberries on them. Mary loved them and he hadn't made them for awhile. He wondered if he had powdered sugar to sprinkle on them. Before he could pull out the waffle iron, there was a knock on the front door. His clock read eight fifty. When he answered, Sarah stood in front of him.

"Sarah, what are you doing here?"

She walked past him, letting herself in. "I wanted to see you. I know that you leave early for work so I was hoping to catch you before you left."

"I have the day off, actually."

"Right, the wedding. Marshall, I didn't mean to bombard you like that. I wasn't really thinking I just… I had to tell you." She stepped closer to him, looking up through her lashes. "I just want you to know that I'm really serious this time. No more hang ups or jealousy."

"Good morning."

Both turned to see Mary standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Her hair was wet and she was dressed in her jeans but one of Marshall's shirts. "Mary, I didn't expect you to be here," Sarah said, recovering first. She took a step back from Marshall, giving him a look. "Especially so early in the morning."

"I wasn't expecting you either," Mary responded. "At all." She walked over to Marshall and slid her arms around his waist. She stood on her toes and kissed him, full on the mouth. "What's for breakfast?"

He knew why she was doing it and part of him was angry. This wasn't the way he had meant to tell Sarah what was going on. But the other part of him was secretly happy that Mary was jealous and felt the need to claim her territory.

"Waffles," he told her. "Could you give Sarah and me a second?"

Mary shot her a glance then shrugged. "Sure."

Marshall opened the front door and led Sarah out onto the porch. "I'm sorry about that," he said when they were alone. "I didn't mean to tell you like that."

"I don't understand why you couldn't have told me two nights ago when I was over here."

"Because, two nights ago, there wasn't anything to tell. Up until last night I had every intention of dating you and getting a new partner."

Sarah was upset and Marshall could tell she was trying to keep her composure. "And what? Mary just suddenly decided that she needed to be with you?"

"Mary and I have kind of been dating in the months that you and I weren't together."

"How can you kind of date someone?"

"Believe me, you can kind of date Mary. I thought that it wasn't going to work out. I thought that Mary and I weren't ever going to be able to be together. But she came over last night and, well, changed all of that."

"How? How could one woman change so much?" she whispered.

"I love her, Sarah. I love her in that way that changes you and once you figure it out, you're never quite the same without it."

Sarah took a deep breath but Marshall could see tears threatening to come. "I thought… maybe, just maybe, I had been wrong. Who is friends with someone for so many years but doesn't tell them how they feel? I thought that maybe I really had just been jealous." She looked at Marshall, sad smile on her face. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I hope you're happy."

Marshall watched her get into her car and drive off before walking back inside. Mary sat at the kitchen island, pretending that she hadn't been eavesdropping the whole time.

"So, how did it go?"

"You know exactly how it went," he told her as he locked the door.

"Only the first part," she said, smiling.

"I was planning to tell her a little differently. I don't think kissing me in front of her was strictly necessary."

"Whatever," she answered with a shrug. "I know you. It would have taken you twenty minutes just to hint to her that you were seeing me. The way I do it, it's straight and to the point."

"And unnecessarily mean."

"She's a grown woman, Marshall, she can handle it. I stopped listening when you said you loved me. What'd she say after that?"

Marshall walked over and leaned against the counter, next to Mary. "She said she hoped I was happy."

"Well?" Mary asked after he was silent a moment. "Are you?"

Marshall looked at the woman sitting in his kitchen. She was difficult and pig headed and was so oblivious to people and their feelings, he sometimes wondered how she managed to interact with the world. But she was also beautiful and loved those she cared about with as much passion as she put into her job and life. She was trustworthy and, when she wasn't yelling at you, fun. He smiled and kissed her. "Yeah, I am."

* * *

They had been dating for two months now and no one at work the wiser. Mary casually suggested lunch and Marshall immediately took her up on it. The elevator doors had barely closed before he grabbed her and kissed her.

"Those doors might open and someone could catch us," she mumbled between kissing him. Marshall knew she wasn't really protesting.

"The elevator will slow down," he told her. The elevator didn't slow until they hit the bottom and then two composed Marshals stepped off.

"We have to do something about all this secrecy," Marshall said when they reached the restaurant. They had done fast food yesterday and Marshall wanted something different.

"What are you talking about?" She picked up a menu, skimming it.

"We're not going to be able to hide it from them for forever. Eventually, Stan and Eleanor are going to figure it out on their own. Eleanor already suspects. She's a bit more perceptive than Stan."

"She does not suspect," Mary argued.

"Women are statistically more intuitive about relationships than men are." He looked at Mary for a moment then smiled. "Of course, there are exceptions to every rule."

"Shut up." She threw her napkin at him. "If you're so worried then let's just tell them."

"Mare, they're going to separate us. They're going to give us new partners."

"Not for long."

"What are you talking about?" The waiter came and they both ordered.

"No one would be able to stand me for more than a week," she said when he was gone. "Let's face it; you're the first partner I've had that's lasted more than six months. Before they paired me with you, I ran off four guys in two months."

Marshall gave a low whistle. "That's impressive."

"Girl has to have a hobby. I'll go through a few partners until finally Stan will tell the government to shove it and put us back together."

Marshall couldn't exactly argue with her. Mary was a refined taste. Granted, she was one he loved savoring, but he knew that finding her another partner that she worked with as well as him was unlikely. In fact, he would venture to say damn near impossible.

"I don't know. I'm still not sure that just coming out and telling them is the way to do it."

They headed back to the office after they had finished lunch, Mary driving.

"Hey, Stan," Mary called when they got off the elevator.

"What?" he asked, coming out to stand next to Eleanor at her desk. Mary grabbed Marshall and kissed him right there in front of everyone.

"Marshall and I are dating. Can you take care of the semantics for us?"

Stan grumbled something and then placed a twenty in Eleanor's outstretched hand. "Yeah, I'll figure it out. Damn it, I never thought he'd tell her."

"You should never bet against a woman's intuition," Eleanor chided.

"They were betting against us!" Mary huffed.

"Actually only Stan was," Marshall pointed out.

"I'm dating an optimist. This could end up being a problem," she told him.

"I think it's adorable," Eleanor chimed it.

"You would."

* * *

He was going to kill her. Six months of dating and he was going to have to murder her. She had left for work before he had this morning. He thought it was odd until he realized that she was just trying to get out before he woke up. He practically ran up to the top floor of the building and Mary was sitting at her desk.

"Mary!" he shouted. Her head shot up and she saw Marshall stalking towards her, angry.

"I have to go!" she said, trying to run past him, out the door. He caught her before she could even get around her desk, the momentum forcing her back in her seat. Marshall placed his hands on her arms rests, effectively trapping her in her seat.

"You used up all the hot water," he accused her. She smiled a little sheepishly.

"Not _all_ the hot water," she countered.

"Leaving me thirty seconds of hot water does not count as leaving me some."

"You're such a pansy. Just suck it up and take a cold shower."

"Says the woman who got up early so she could take a hot one. This can't continue, Mare, you can't keep leaving me cold water."

"Well, what do you expect me to do about it?" She crossed her arms over her chest, daring him to come up with an answer. Marshall just smirked.

"There's only one solution to this problem. We'll just have to move in together to a house that has a bigger hot water heater."

She gave him a blank stare for a minute and then starting chuckling to herself. "How long have you been waiting to drop that bomb on me?" she asked him.

"About a month," he conceded.

"Fine, I'll move in with you. I mean, if you went to that much effort just to ask me, it's the least that I can do."

* * *

They found something a month later, equidistance from their two old houses. Jinx finally moved out, not wanting to impose on the two. Her daughter had finally found someone she liked, someone Jinx knew Mary cared for. She didn't want to stick around and, well, jinx it.

Marshall decorated and Mary tried to sneak in as many tacky pieces of furniture as she could. "We are not having a lava lamp in the living room," Marshall told her, taking it off the mantle.

"Oh, come on! Every self-respecting home needs a lave lamp."

"Not in the living room."

"How about in the bedroom?"

Marshall looked at her for a second. "Fine," he said.

"Yes!"

"But this means no naked girl coo-coo clock!"

"We'll see!"

* * *

Brandi was dropping off her kid. Mary couldn't believe that her little sister had reproduced so quickly after their marriage. She teased Brandi about it constantly but, to be honest, she loved the little kid. At almost two, she had just the right amount of smarts and attitude to be great when she was with Mary but a real pain in the ass to her parents.

"We're only going to be gone for the day," Brandi said. "No sweets. I'll kill you if I come home to a hyper kid."

"We're going to have fun, aren't we Alexa?"

Brandi looked at Marshall desperately. He took the child from Mary's arms. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Marshall told the worried mother.

"Thanks. Alexa, say goodbye to Mommy and Daddy." The little girl got kissed by both her parents and waved goodbye to them until they car disappeared around the corner. She had been over Aunt Mary's and Uncle Marshall's house plenty of times. She knew exactly where all the toys were.

Mary and Marshall entertained her for hours until, after lunch, she fell asleep on the couch in Marshall's arms. Mary leaned against the doorframe, watching him gently rock her. After a few minutes, he looked up and smiled at Mary.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey, yourself," she whispered back. "She looks pretty comfortable there."

"Good, because my arm is falling asleep. She'd better be comfortable."

Mary sat down on the couch and rested her head on Marshall's shoulder.

"You honestly don't want one of these?" he asked her.

"When did I ever say that?"

"That first morning after Brandi's wedding, when I told you I thought about our future."

Mary smiled, remembering what a good morning it had been. She also remembered actively trying not to freak out when Marshall had mentioned kids. It had been over two years ago and things were so different now. _She _was different now.

"I want one of these but only if you're there to raise it with me."

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Really. Though, we should probably get married first. Isn't that how it usually works?"

"Sometimes… are you telling me that you want to get married?"

"I'm telling you that you can take out that ring that you've been carrying around for years and ask me."

Marshall smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out the same ring that Mary had discovered in his desk ages ago. It seemed ages ago to him, anyway. "Mare?" he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Marry me?"

"Of course, Doofus."

"Love you, too."

~Fin.


End file.
